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THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA 
OF IRELAND 



THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA SERIES 

Edited by Richard Burton 



THE 

CONTEMPORARY DRAMA 

OF IRELAND 



BY 



ERNEST A. BOYD 



NON-REFEKf 




aWLVAD ♦ Q3$ 



BOSTON 

LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 

1917 






Copyright, 1917, 
By Little, Brown, and Company, 



All rights reserved 
Published February, 1917 



MAR -2 1917 



NortDooti ^Presa 

Set up and electrotyped by J. S. Gushing Co., Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. 

Presswork by S. J. Parkhill & Co., Boston, Mass., U.S.A. 



3^CiA455780 



TO 

H. L. MENCKEN 



CONTENTS 



OHAPTSB PAOB 

I The Irish Literary Theatre . ; . . 1 

II Edward Martyn 12 

III The Beginnings of the Irish National The- 

atre 32 

IV William Butler Yeats 47 

V The Impulse to Folk Drama : J. M. Synge and 

Padraic Colum 88 

VI Peasant Comedy: Lady Gregory and Wil- 
liam Boyle ....... 121 

VII Later Playwrights 142 

VIII The Ulster Literary Theatre . . . 170 

IX Summary and Conclusion 193 

Bibliographical Appendix . • . . 201 

Index 211 



THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA 
OF IRELAND 

CHAPTER I 
The Irish Literary Theatre 

The last decade of the nineteenth century was 
marked, in Germany, France, and England, by a 
strong reaction against the decadence into which the 
art of the theatre had fallen. When the Freie Biihne, 
Theatre Libre and Independent Theatre were established 
their task was the by no means inconsiderable one of 
driving from the stage the incredible sentimentalities 
and the machine-made effects of the popular drama* 
Most of the names which had for years occupied the 
attention of playgoers are now lost in the obscurity 
from which they should never have emerged. Occa- 
sionally touring companies are found, in the more un- 
sophisticated regions, to galvanize the corpses of those 
plays which excited the indignant ambition of the 
progressive dramatists a quarter of a century ago. 
Yet, in spite of undeniable progress, perhaps best 
appreciated when the mid-Victorian play confers an 

1 



2 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

unmerited luster upon its modern Broadway equiva- 
lent, in spite of the advantages enjoyed by the success- 
ful play of to-day compared with its predecessors of 
the "eighties'', it is generally admitted that the 
theatre badly responds to the intellectual demands of 
our time. 

There is, however, one country whose drama shows 
a more than usual consistency in its intention to realize 
the ideals of the dramatic reformers who instituted the 
revolt against "Sardoodledom." Ireland did not es- 
cape the influences that were at work in Western 
Europe during the " eighteen-nineties " and which 
gave us, under Ibsen's impulse, a Hauptmann, a 
Brieux, and a Shaw. Instead, however, of springing 
up as an unrelated movement, in the midst of a uni- 
versal acceptance of literary and dramatic commercial- 
ization, the Irish Dramatic Revival became at once a 
part of the comprehensive intellectual awakening which 
had then come to be known as "the Celtic Renaissance." 
Ever since 1880, when Standish O'Grady's epic history 
of Ireland had fired the imagination of a young genera- 
tion of poets, Ireland had been giving forth unmistak- 
able signs of the creative urge in national literature. 
W. B. Yeats and A. E. were already known to wide 
audiences, and the existence of a group of Irish poets 
and prose writers with a song and message refreshingly 
unlike the literature associated with The Yellow Booh 
school, confirmed the truth of Ireland's Literary Re- 
vival. Consequently, when the wave of dramatic 
reform reached that country, just as the nineteenth 
century closed, it did not break against a stony in- 



THE IRISH LITERARY THEATRE 3 

difference, nor was it diverted into shallow streams 
which soon dried up; it flowed naturally into the 
vital current of national literary activity. 

The result has been that while the contemporaneous 
movements towards the reorganization of the theatre 
are now memories, with only here and there an isolated 
dramatist to testify to their passage, there is in Ire- 
land to-day a national theatre, devoted, in the main, to 
the production of uncommercial drama. Without the 
State subvention necessary to the proper support of 
such an institution, the Irish Theatre has, for more 
than fifteen years, given practical effect to the plans 
and theories which inspired the "free stage" propagan- 
dists in Berlin, Paris, and London. The latter had to 
resign themselves to more temporary achievements, 
pending the time when their best talent might be 
absorbed by the theatre of commerce. The Irish 
Dramatic Movement has had to make concessions in 
order to obviate the difficulties arising out of economic 
dependence, but its evolution has been uninterruptedly 
in the direction of permanent success. It has not been 
supported by a coterie only but has enjoyed the satis- 
faction of seeing its public grow to meet its expansion, 
and above all, it has been creatively fruitful. That is 
to say, the Irish Theatre has not only educated the play- 
goer and influenced the dramatist, but has created a 
dramatic literature, and given birth to a number of 
playwrights whose genius would never have responded 
to any other call. 

The association of the Irish drama with the Literary 
Revival is, therefore, so intimate that the limitations 



4 THE CONTEMPORAEY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

imposed upon the student are self-evident. He will 
concern himself neither with plays which accidentally 
or incidentally have their setting in Ireland, nor with 
the work of Irishmen whose spirit is as remote from 
their country as the scene in which their plays are 
laid. Either of these conditions will exclude from 
consideration that excellent dramatization of Irish 
politics, John BulVs Other Island. On the other hand, 
the works of Oscar Wilde are, for obvious reasons, 
even more alien to the study of Irish drama than those 
of Calderon, who wrote 8t. Patricks Purgatory, or 
of that sixteenth-century Italian dramatist, Giovanni 
Giraldi, whose Arrenopia found its scene in Limerick. 
Just as the non-Gaelic reader understands by Irish 
literature that body of prose and poetry which has 
been written during the past thirty years under the 
influence of the Celtic Renaissance, so he will apply 
the term Irish drama to the manifestation of that 
influence which has centered about the theatre. There 
is an interesting Gaelic literature in the process of 
creation, and still more remarkable Gaelic drama, but 
neither calls for attention at the present time. It will 
suSice to have recalled their existence, for they are the 
all important background in any attempt to picture 
the Anglo-Irish expression of our national life. 

The almost immediate absorption of the "new 
drama" tendencies by the forces of the Literary Re- 
vival in Ireland must not, however, blind us to the 
fact that the Irish Theatre owes its birth to that 
general impulse of the period, and is not the purely 
"Celtic" creation generally supposed. It was, at its 



THE IRISH LITERARY THEATRE 5 

inception, a local reaction to the prevalent stimulus, 
which impelled men to seek the renovation of an art 
abandoned to commercial speculation. The current 
misconception as to the origins and founders of our 
Dramatic Revival is due to the fame which accom* 
panied the second phase of that revival, making of it 
the best known aspect of the Celtic Renaissance. We 
must, therefore, first establish the separate identity 
of the original Irish Literary Theatre, before coming 
to the now famous achievements of the Irish National 
Theatre Society. The former was essentially a part 
of the so-called "Ibsenite movement", which led to 
the establishment of the Independent Theatre in 
London; the latter was a part of the general 
renascence of Irish literature, whose progress made it 
possible for the national to embrace and transform the 
international movement of ideas. 

Founded in 1899, the Irish Literary Theatre owed 
its title and, in a large measure its existence, to Edward 
Martyn, whose interest in the drama was avowedly 
stimulated by the revelation of Ibsen and the Scandina- 
vian and Russian dramatists to a belated London public. 
With his friends George Moore and W. B. Yeats, of 
whom the former had contributed to the repertoire 
of the Independent Theatre, he projected his plan of 
giving Ireland a similar stage upon which literary plays 
might be performed, without being exposed to the 
exigencies of pure profiteering. His resolve was 
strengthened by the fact that he had been unable to 
find a London manager sufficiently appreciative to 
produce either Maeve or The Heather Field. These 



6 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

composed his first volume of plays, which was pub- 
lished in 1899 and received most favorably by the 
critics, thus emphasizing the necessity for a theatre 
where such work could secure a hearing. Prior to 
that date Martyn and Yeats had come over to Ireland 
with a view to enlisting aid for their project. Lady 
Gregory, A. E., Standish O'Grady, and a host of 
others prominent in various departments of Irish life, 
associated themselves with the proposal, and soon a 
sufficient number of guarantors was found to bring 
the Irish Literary Theatre into existence. 

At the inaugural performance, which took place on 
May 8, 1899, The Countess Cathleen by W. B. Yeats 
occupied the program, and the following evening 
Edward Martyn's The Heather Field was produced. 
In February, 1900, a second season opened with The 
Bending of the Bough by George Moore, which was 
succeeded by Edward Martyn's Maeve, and a heroic 
drama of ancient Ireland, The Last Feast of the Fianna, 
by Alice Milligan, the sole contribution of importance 
by this distinguished poetess to our dramatic litera- 
ture. Finally, in October, 1901, the Irish Literary 
Theatre terminated its official career, after the pro- 
duction of Diarmuid and Grania, written in collabora- 
tion by Yeats and Moore, and of the first Gaelic play 
performed in any theatre, Casadh an t-Sugdin (The 
Twisting of the Rope) by Douglas Hyde. In brief 
summary, its achievement was the performance of six 
plays in English, and one in Gaelic, all with Irish 
themes, but played, with the exception of the last, 
by English actors. It will be seen then, that while 



THE IKISH LITERARY THEATRE 7 

an important step had been taken in the direction of a 
National Theatre, the essential condition of national 
drama, namely, native interpretation, was lacking. 

It is doubtful, however, if the creation of a national 
drama was ever the main purpose of the enterprise. 
W. B. Yeats certainly had this object in view, but 
both his coadjutors were far more concerned to facili- 
tate the production of literary drama, without special 
reference to its nationality. Consequently the plays 
produced reflect, as we shall see, this double tendency. 
Yeats, with the almost negligible support of Alice 
Milligan, represented the character which the Irish 
Theatre was subsequently to assume, whereas Martyn 
and Moore stood for the more cosmopolitan " drama of 
ideas" which they had learned to admire in London. 
The institution which they conceived would have 
given room to the poetic and folk plays of Yeats's 
ambition, but only on the same terms as would have 
been accorded to Chekhov or Strindberg. Elements 
of dissolution were contained in this clash of motives, 
so that the association of effort lasted only long enough 
to lay the foundation of the movement which was to 
give us a national theatre. 

An examination of the work of Edward Martyn will 
enable us to estimate precisely the significance of his 
role in the evolution of contemporary Irish drama. It 
will then be evident why the Irish Literary Theatre 
must be traced to other sources than those from which 
the Irish National Theatre derives. At the same time, 
we shall notice the point of transition, which might 
have become one of fusion, had more foresight been 



8 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

possible at the time. Martyn was not only the prime 
mover of the Literary Theatre, but he most perfectly 
embodies the dramatic ideal which that institution 
represented, as against the aims subsequently for- 
mulated by the theory and practice of the Irish 
National Theatre Society. While the plays of Yeats 
and Alice Milligan contained no element irreconcilable 
with the latter, those of Martyn have never become 
part of the Irish Players' repertoire. 

In order to appreciate the relation of theory to prac- 
tice in Martyn's case, we must preface an analysis of 
his writings by a brief exposition of the principles which 
attended their production. These will be found in 
Beliaine, which was, during the years 1899 and 1900, 
"the organ of the Irish Literary Theatre." In the 
first issue we read : " Everywhere critics and writers, 
who wish for something better than the ordinary play 
of commerce, turn to Norway for an example and an 
inspiration." Then follows a reference to the Theatre 
Libre and Independent Theatre, and such inexpensive 
theatres "which associations of men of letters hire 
from time to time, that they may see on the stage the 
plays of Henrik Ibsen, Maurice Maeterlinck, Gerard 
Hauptmann, Jose Echegaray, or some less famous 
dramatist who has written, in the only way literature 
can be written, to express a dream which has taken 
possession of his mind." The examples and influences 
which prompted Martyn, Moore, and Yeats are evi- 
dent from these opening lines of their manifesto, and, 
that there should be no doubt as to their intentions, 
they announce: "The Irish Literary Theatre will 



THE IRISH LITERARY THEATRE 9 

attempt to do in Dublin something of what has been 
done in London and Paris;" adding, "if it has even 
a small welcome, it will produce, somewhere about the 
old festival of Beltaine, at the beginning of every spring, 
a play founded upon an Irish subject." 

There is nothing in these statements which would 
expressly preclude the performance of the folk-plays 
and peasant drama now so completely identified with 
the Irish Theatre. Indeed, the editor of Beltaine 
seemed to have some such departure from the English 
and Continental models in his mind when he wrote : 
"The plays will differ from those produced by associa- 
tions of men of letters in London and Paris, because 
times have changed, and because the intellect of Ire- 
land is romantic and spiritual, rather than scientific 
and analytical." Nevertheless, it is impossible, w^hen 
turning over the pages of Beltaine, to escape the feeling 
that the Scandinavian theatre, with its French and 
English disciples, was constantly in the minds of those 
who planned to give Ireland something analogous. 
Even the convention of the printed play, that essen- 
tially Shavian-English escape from the limitations of 
the commercial stage, was accepted. "In all or almost 
all cases the plays must be published before they are 
acted, and no play will be accepted which could not 
hope to succeed as a book." The popularity of the 
printed play has been largely due to the virtue which 
the "advanced dramatists" had to make of necessity, 
in the heroic days of the Ibsen-Shaw crusade. It has 
facilitated the de-dramatization of the contemporary 
"theatre of ideas", and does not deserve any more 



10 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

respect than many another stage convention displaced 
by the advent of the talking play — the "arguments", 
"conversations", and other substitutes for drama in 
recent years. Yet we find the Irish Literary Theatre 
beginning its career with this conventional novelty of 
the period, convinced apparently that some special 
quality attaches to the work of a playwright who ad- 
dresses himself to the reader first, to the playgoer after- 
wards. 

Significantly, it will be found that the vast majority 
of the plays in the repertoire of the National Theatre 
make their appeal primarily to the eye and ear. They 
appear in book form, it is true, but that is by no means 
a condition precedent of their acceptance or success. 
W. B. Yeats has written eloquently and at length 
upon the claims of the poetic play, and of the relation 
between "literature and the living voice", clearly 
indicating a constant preoccupation far removed from 
the interest of the printed plays as such. The speak- 
ing of verse has always been his chief concern in the 
theatre, and the well-known superiority of the Irish 
Players in their interpretation of poetic and peasant 
plays is due to the rhythm of their speech. The English 
actors, with the exception of Florence Farr, who played 
during the three years of the Literary Theatre, could 
not assert the superiority of the human voice over 
print so wonderfully as the later group of players, 
trained by the brothers Fay for the Irish National 
Theatre. Consequently, this fact alone constituted a 
serious obstacle to the reconcilement of the conflicting 
ideals cherished by the founders of the original Theatre. 



THE IRISH LITERARY THEATRE 11 

In the second number of Beltaine we find Yeats already 
confessing to a certain disappointment in his hope of 
having plays in verse adequately performed. After 
his experience with The Countess Cathleen, he writes : 
"I rather shrink from producing another verse play, 
unless I get some opportunity for experiment with my 
actors in the speaking of verse." 

By way of summary we may say that the dominant 
note of Beltaine is cosmopolitan rather than national. 
While Yeats was pleading for dramas of Irish legend 
and classical history, his collaborators were arguing 
from the example of the dramatic innovations of Con- 
tinental Europe. In support of the former there is 
little beyond vague announcements of plays, which 
have never materialized, by Fiona Macleod and Stan- 
dish 0' Grady; in support of the latter, there came 
articles dealing with the rise of the intellectual drama, 
and some of the most remarkable pieces written in 
English under the influence of Ibsen. On the one side 
was the theatre of beauty, on the other the theatre of 
ideas, concerned respectively for the importance of 
rhythm and diction and for the importance of the 
printed play. All the circumstances were propitious 
to the success of the latter, and unfavorable to the 
duration of an enterprise based upon so slight an iden- 
tity of purpose. The only common ground was the 
general desire to follow an almost universal revolt 
against the stereotyped drama of the commercial 
theatre. 



CHAPTER II 

Edward Martyn 

George Moore's veracious essay in indiscreet 
autobiography, Hail and Farewell, contains no figure 
more interesting than Edward Martyn, who survives 
the ordeal of fictional reconstruction as successfully 
as A. E., and John Eglinton, in that all three emerge 
undiminished. Those three volumes of Irish literary 
history drew attention to the personality of many 
writers who would have preferred to let their own books 
speak for them, and Edward Martyn may be counted 
amongst their number. Biographically there is little 
to relate of him that bears upon his work for the Irish 
Theatre. A Nationalist of strong convictions, he has 
found himself involved in conflicts arising out of the 
clash of his political opinions with his social position 
as a landed gentleman and magistrate, in a country 
where these qualifications were traditionally dissociated 
from nationalism. He had long been a discriminating 
critic and lover of music, before the Dramatic Move- 
ment engaged his attention, a fact with which his 
country was made gratefully acquainted, when he 
donated fifty thousand dollars to found a Palestrina 
choir in the Catholic Pro-Cathedral, Dublin. 

12 



EDWAKD MARTYN 13 

His artistic bent was not, however, solely in that 
direction which has provided the author of Ave with 
material for the exercise of a peculiar talent. When he 
left Dublin to complete his education at Oxford Univer- 
sity, his fancy had turned to thoughts of poetry, and 
in 1885 he had prepared a book of verse for publication, 
but in spite of his twenty-six years and his Irish birth, 
he resisted the impulse, and destroyed the manuscript. 
It was not until 1890 that he made his iSrst venture into 
literature, when he published Morgante the Lesser, under 
the pseudonym, "Sirius." This extraordinary novel 
did not reveal anything of the future dramatist. It 
was a brutal satire, Swiftian in its manner, upon the 
scientifico-materialistic philosophy of that period when 
the omnipotence of Darwinian rationalism had not 
yet been rationally disputed. Written in the elaborate, 
discursive fashion of the eighteenth-century satirists, 
the book was not one to appeal to the average novel 
reader, but it deserves attention, if only because of a 
reflected interest which his subsequent works have 
conferred upon it. We shall see that his conception 
of the nature of satire did not materially alter when he 
came to project his fancies upon the stage. 

In 1899 he published The Heather Field and Maeve 
in one volume, with a preface by George Moore, and 
these were the two plays which constituted the greatest 
successes of the Irish Literary Theatre, where they were 
almost immediately produced. So successful was The 
Heather Field that it was performed shortly afterwards 
in London and New York, and was translated for 
production in Germany. In confirmation of what has 



14 THE CONTEMPORAEY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

already been said as to the examples by which the 
founders of the Irish Literary Theatre were inspired, 
we find in George Moore's preface a characteristic 
analysis of the Independent Theatre movement in 
London. With considerable irony he describes his 
adventures with Mr. William Archer, the champion of 
Ibsen, and with the managers or actors who professed 
to be interested in literary drama. As he rightly says, 
the collapse of the theatre of ideas in London was 
mainly due to the indiscriminate enthusiasm of the 
critics, and the public led by them, for all plays which 
seemed in any way to depart from the conventional 
success of the Sardou-Rostand type. Pinero, in partic- 
ular, is accused by Moore of having utterly demoralized 
the advocates of progress, who mistook his suburban 
audacities for advanced ideas, and his literary melo- 
drama for a new technique. Incidentally, it tran- 
spires that neither the producers nor the critics could 
be induced by Moore to consider favorably The Heather 
Field. Obviously, we must conclude that Martyn's 
aim was to write for the existing London theatres open 
to literary plays, and not to found a theatre for the 
special purpose. Finding no encouragement he then 
bethought hunself of a joint undertaking, with Yeats 
and Moore as his active supporters, — the former 
having experienced London production, when his 
Land of Heart's Desire was played at the Avenue 
Theatre in 1894, the latter having shared in the work 
of the Independent Theatre, where The Strike at Arling- 
ford was produced in 1893. 
The three acts of The Heather Field are devoted to 



EDWARD MARTYN 15 

a psychological analysis of Garden Tyrrell, the Irish 
landowner, whose world of reality is situated in the 
land of his own dreams, but who has been forced to 
grapple with the material factors of life in the ad- 
ministration of his estate. Although marriage has 
thrust the duties and responsibilities of his position 
upon him, Tyrrell is temperamentally incapable of 
abandoning himself wholly to everyday affairs. The 
idealist in him soon conceived the quixotic passion 
of reclaiming from the Atlantic a wild field of bog and 
heather, and when the play opens we find him immersed 
in the plans and difficulties attendant upon the realiza- 
tion of his dream. He has mortgaged his property 
heavily to obtain money for the work of draining and 
removing the rocks from the heather field, and his 
wife is anxious to secure control of the estate, in order 
to prevent him from utterly ruining their fortunes, by 
raising further loans to repair the damage caused to 
the adjoining land, in the course of improving the field 
in question. Tyrrell has allowed his passion so to 
possess him that he has become oblivious to every- 
thing, and clings with increasing desperation to what 
he feels is his lost ideal. He is in a state of intense 
exaltation, aggravated by the constant antagonism of 
a very matter-of-fact wife, whose sympathy for him 
was never deep, and is now turned to a mixture of fear 
and hatred, by the spectacle of the inevitable bank- 
ruptcy into which they are drifting. 

The strangeness of her husband's manner, his vision- 
ary intensity, and the obvious calamity which threatens 
to engulf her and their child, serve to provide Mrs. 



16 THE CONTEMPOEARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

Tyrrell with the weapon she requu*es. In the typical 
Strindbergian manner she sets herself to have her 
husband declared incompetent on the ground of in- 
sanity. The alienists are on the point of giving the 
verdict which will place the direction of Tyrell's affairs 
in his wife's hands, but are dissuaded by his close 
friend, Barry Ussher. The latter, knowing and loving 
Tyrrell, cannot accept the theory of madness, and al- 
though he appreciates the difficulty of Mrs. Tyrrell's 
position, he cannot permit an action whose effect 
would assuredly be to drive the idealist insane. Tyrrell 
is thus saved from being put under restraint, but the 
catastrophe feared by Ussher is merely postponed. 
His mortgages and debts have transformed the erst- 
while lenient landlord into a hard taskmaster, who 
turns to eviction, as did so many of his fellows, as the 
way out of his own incapacity and bad management. 
The evicted tenants have resorted to the violence 
which was long the only expression of their side of the 
agrarian campaign in Ireland, and Tyrrell has been 
provided with a police escort to protect him from the 
vengeance of his tenantry. This protection is so 
repulsive to him that he prefers to remain indoors, 
brooding over his dream, and slipping farther away 
from contact with the present. 

As he lives at home, thrown back upon himself and 
cherishing memories as a refuge from his unhappy 
present, Garden Tyrrell becomes ever more engrossed 
in the symbolic vision of the heather field, where the 
winds sang to him of youth and happiness, whose 
flowering represents the consummation of joy and sue- 



EDWARD MARTYN 17 

cess. But one day his little child comes to him with 
a handful of heather buds, the only flowers he could 
find while playing in that field of fate. These an- 
nounce the triumph of nature over Tyrrell's efforts; 
the land he would reclaim has become waste once more, 
so that not even this ideal world is left in which he 
could wander in fancy. The blow destroys his dream 
and his reason, but only for a moment. In ecstatic 
vision he reasserts his idealism, for he has crossed 
forever the line which divides the material from the 
imaginative, and the curtain falls upon the man re- 
stored at last to the period of his youth, when the 
earth was fair and his spirit untroubled. 

The part of Ibsen in the conception of The Heather 
Field seems perhaps more obvious than it really is. 
The leitmotiv derives something from The Wild Duck, 
and there is more than a suggestion of Ghosts in the 
closing scene, when Tyrrell turns to his child, whom he 
believes to be his brother and cries : " See, even now 
the sky is darkening as in that storm scene of the old 
legend I told you on the Rhine. See, the rain across a 
saffron sun trembles like gold harp strings, through 
the purple Irish Spring!" And then, as they watch 
the rainbow: "Oh, mystic highway of man's speech- 
less longings ! my heart goes forth upon the rainbow 
to that horizon of joy ! " {With fearful exaltation.) " The 
voices — I hear them now triumphant in a silver 
glory of song." 

George Moore asserts that it was "the first play 
written in English inspired by the examples of Ibsen", 
a fact of which he failed to convince Mr. Archer, who 



18 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

held, of course, that the great Scandinavian dramatist 
was essentially a social reformer. In that sense it is 
impossible to describe Edward Martyn as "an Irish 
Ibsen", for he has never professed any didactic inten- 
tion, and it would be hard to say wherein consists the 
" purpose ' ' of The Heather Field. As Moore pointed out, 
we sympathized with Tyrrell, "although all right and 
good sense are on the wife's side." This, however, 
was not the case in London, where, we have the author- 
ity of Yeats for saying, the audience approved of the 
proposal to lock up Tyrrell as a madman. In Ireland 
the doctors were hissed by the less sophisticated mem- 
bers of the audience, as a sign of their disapproval of 
Mrs. Tyrrell's intentions I The fact is, as further 
examination will prove, the work of Martyn may be 
described as essentially Ibsenite, or not, — according 
as one emphasizes the propagandist aspect of Ibsen's 
dramas. Inasmuch as the latter has been the point 
upon which his English disciples have insisted, their 
plays have all tended to become vehicles for the ex- 
pression of social theories. As the Irish playwright 
avoided this procedure he cannot be termed a follower 
of Ibsen, as the expression is usually employed. 

Naturally, Edward Martyn was subjected to the 
Norwegian influence, and so far as the latter has colored 
modern dramatic technique, he is truly a product of 
the period. He seems, nevertheless, to have given a 
more personal imprint to his rendering of the lesson 
learned by his contemporaries from Ibsen. Instead of 
merely seizing upon the facilities for propaganda 
afforded by the abolition of worn-out conventions, he 



EDWARD MARTYN 19 

applied Ibsen's method to the portrayal of national 
character and the interpretation of Irish life. Conse- 
quently, his plays resemble those of his master much 
more than does anything written by the author of the 
Quintessence of Ihsenism, who has been so instrumental 
in obscuring the true purpose of the dramatist. While 
Shaw has read into Ibsen a most interesting commen- 
tary upon contemporary social problems, he has 
caused us to lose sight of the original spirit in which 
that commentary was presented. There have been 
innumerable minor variations upon such themes as 
The DolVs Ilou^e, but none of the later English play- 
wrights has approached a local theme in the Ibsen 
manner. In Martyn we get the essence of Ibsenism, 
rather than that quintessence extracted by Bernard 
Shaw. He does not concentrate upon one aspect of 
Ibsen's genius, but envelops his subject in an at- 
mosphere which we recognize as akin to that of Hedda 
Gabler or The Lady from the Sea. 

A notable example of this adaptation' is Maeve, the 
"psychological drama in two acts", which followed 
The Heather Field in the published volume, as also 
on the stage of The Irish Literary Theatre. Maeve 
O'Heynes, daughter of The O'Heynes, hereditary 
Prince of Burren, County Clare, is an idealist of the 
same visionary race as Carden Tyrrell. She has sub- 
mitted to betrothal with a wealthy Englishman, Hugh 
Fitz Walter, from a sense of duty to the impoverished 
nobility of her father, who cannot occupy the rank to 
which he is entitled without the fortune which this 
marriage will bring. From the moment the curtain 



20 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

is raised, Maeve is revealed as a dreamy, high-strung 
girl, whose imagination is haunted by the fairy lore 
and legend of the countryside. She moves on a plane 
of vision far above the humdrum world of her impecu- 
nious family, whose sole thought is the marriage which 
will restore their social dignity. Maeve has nothing 
in common with her young English suitor, who shows 
himself, indeed, strangely tolerant of the indifference, 
amounting to aversion, with which she meets his 
expressions of sentiment. It is understood, however, 
that the girl is more than usually sensitive and moody, 
and much latitude is granted her in the expression of 
her temperament. 

The confidant of Maeve's dreams is the old nurse. 
Peg Inerny, who has all the West Irish peasant's 
poetic faith in the existence of "the good people", 
the superhuman beings of the Celtic land of faery. 
Peg is convinced that the lore of the peasantry identi- 
fying her with the Great Queen Maeve of Gaelic epic 
history is based upon the fact that she undergoes this 
metamorphosis at night upon the mountain side. 
She finds in Maeve O'Heynes one only too ready to 
follow her into this existence of the spirit, for Peg 
speaks to the visionary girl of things seen in moments 
of rapture. Thus, when the old nurse invites her out 
on to the mountain to meet the great figures of legend, 
and the noble lover revealed in her dreams, Maeve 
forgets her wedding eve and accompanies her. After 
several hours of trance on the hills, she returns to the 
old castle, her whole being disturbed by the ecstasy 
of vision. She seats herself at the open window, in- 



EDWARD MARTYN 21 

sensible of the piercing cold of the night, and as she 
broods, the spirit world opens to her, and before her 
eyes there passes the procession of Queen Maeve with 
her attendants, as they rise out of the mountain cairn 
and come towards the castle. On their return they 
are accompanied by the spirit of Maeve, which passes 
with the others into the mysterious realm of Tir-nan- 
ogue. When her sister comes to prepare her for the 
wedding she finds the bride sitting cold and lifeless at 
the window, her soul having gone out to meet that of 
the ideal lover — himself but a symbol of eternal 
beauty. 

Both W. B. Yeats and George Moore have seen in 
Maeve, to quote the latter, "the spirit and sense of an 
ill-fated race." "She portrays its destiny and bears 
the still unextinguished light of its heroic period." Or 
as the editor of Beltaine expressed it, the play was a 
symbol of "Ireland's choice between English material- 
ism and her own natural idealism, as well as the choice 
of every individual soul." In a remarkable essay Yeats 
has discussed "Maeve and Certain Irish Beliefs", in 
which he illustrates the background of experience from 
which such characterizations as that of Peg Inerny 
take their reality. Edward Martyn did not profess 
to have drawn this character from life, but, as Yeats 
shows, the peasant belief in women who are queens 
"when in faery" is widespread. As a footnote to the 
folklore of the play this essay from Beltaine is worth 
preserving. But, without any reference to such 
inquiries, Maeve is a noteworthy contribution to our 
dramatic literature. Spectacularly it is most effective, 



22 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

more especially in the scene where the vision of Queen 
Maeve comes to the young girl in her trance, a fitting 
climax to the cold, unearthly movement of the entire 
play, whose atmosphere is finely conceived and sus- 
tained. 

In 1902 appeared a second volume of plays contain- 
ing The Tale of a town and The Enchanted Sea, The 
former was written for the second season of the Irish 
Literary Theatre, but was not produced in its pub- 
lished form. Instead of the latter was substituted 
The Bending of the Bough, a rewritten version by 
George Moore which appeared in book form in 1900, 
shortly after its production. Nothing in the preface 
indicated that the play was any other but Moore's 
invention, and it was not until the following year that 
he explained how he had revised The Tale of a Town : 

"In my re- writing . . . the two plays have very 
little in common except the names of the personages 
and the number of the acts. The Comedy, entitled 
The Bending of the Bough, was written in two months, 
and two months are really not sufiicient time to write 
a five act comedy in; and, at Mr. Martyn's request, 
my name alone w^as put on the title page." 

Since these lines were written in the 1901 issue of 
Samhain (the successor of Beltaine as the organ of the 
Dramatic Movement), readers of Hail and Farewell 
have been fully initiated into the circumstances of the 
transfer of authorship. It says a great deal for Edward 
Martyn's enthusiasm for the Irish Literary Theatre 
that he should have effaced himself to the extent of 
handing over his play to another. 



EDWARD MARTYN 23 

It is a little difficult nowadays, when one reads the 
two versions, to understand why The Tale of a Town 
should have been rejected in favor of The Bending of 
the Bough, which has not added anything to the reputa- 
tion of George Moore. Both plays are substantially 
the same, although four out of the five acts were 
rewritten in The Bending of the Bough. The action 
centers about the struggle of Jasper Dean, alderman 
of a coast town in the west of Ireland, to unite the 
members of the corporation in the defense of their 
municipal rights. The town is owed an indemnity by 
the municipality of Anglebury, an English watering 
place, whose line of steamers has secured the elimination 
of competition by promising to pay the Irish line 
compensation for the latter's retirement from business. 
Various social and political jealousies and influences 
have prevented the aldermen from effectively joining 
to enforce their lawful demands upon the city council 
of Anglebury. The author exposes in the crudest 
and most brutal fashion the sordid intrigues of munic- 
ipal politics, showing how the interests of the public 
are sacrificed to the play of personal motives. Jasper 
Dean, however, is a patriot, and a man of caliber and 
intelligence, who eventually succeeds in dominating 
the situation. His obvious disinterestedness enables 
him to unite the whole council, with the exception of 
one opportunist, and it looks as if the Irish town were 
at last on the point of securing its rights. In the end 
Dean is corrupted by the influence of his intended wife, 
who is the niece of the mayor of Anglebury. Very 
subtly she is used to poison his mind with the sophistries 



24 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

which have ever appealed to the anti-patriotism of a 
certain class of Irishmen. The social advantages of pre- 
ferring England to Ireland are once again demonstrated, 
and once again this appeal to class prejudice succeeds. 
' The difference between the two plays is one of man- 
ner, not of matter, for in both cases the conclusion is 
the same. Moore had the advantage of his craftsman- 
ship as novelist to help him over the places where 
Martyn stumbled, but it is doubtful if his play reflects 
adequately the disparity of literary stature between 
the two authors. In spite of that youthful effort in 
tragedy, Martin Luther (1879), and notwithstanding 
the marked improvement between The Strike at Arling- 
*ford (1893) and The Apostle (1911), Esther Waters 
(1913), and Elizabeth Cooper (1913), George Moore 
does not possess the gift of writing for the stage. His 
technique will not permit him to secure in the theatre 
those effects which are so great a charm of his fiction, 
autobiographical or otherwise. Consequently, while 
he has softened the harsh caricature of Martyn's 
picture of municipal politics, and made more universally 
intelligible the desertion of Jasper Dean, he has not 
made The Bending of the Bough a great play. In fact, 
for all its crudity, The Tale of a Town is more faithful 
in its interpretation of Irish conditions. So little did 
the latter concern Moore that he transported the 
setting to Scotland, thus ignoring the essential part of 
Martyn's satire. For the fundamental interest of the 
play as originally conceived is its symbolical inter- 
pretation of Irish political conditions, to which is 
added, of course, the satire of actual city politics. 



EDWARD MARTYN 25 

When The Tale of a Toivn was eventually performed in 
Dublin, in 1905, this aspect of the play at once caught 
attention and made it a success. The Bending of the 
Bough might stand as the type of political comedy in 
general. The Tale of a Town representing Irish political 
comedy in particular. The precise significance of 
Jasper Dean's betrayal is more intelligible to Ireland 
in Martyn's version than in Moore's, but in the latter 
it will be more easily understood by a public unfamiliar 
with local circumstances. For this reason foreign 
commentators have invariably preferred The Bending 
of the Bough; which is possibly a better written play, 
but is not, therefor, a better Irish play. 

In The Enchanted Sea, the author returned to a theme 
more akin to his talent than political satire, which he 
again essayed, however, in 1902, when The Place 
Hunters was published in an Irish review. The Leader. 
This trifle is suflSciently indicated by its title and need 
not detain us. The Enchanted Sea, on the other hand, 
must be bracketed with Maeve, as an interesting ap- 
plication of Ibsen's method to the material of Irish 
life. More than any other work of Martyn's, this 
play bears the mark of the Scandinavian dramatist's 
influence, being, in fact, an Irish counterpart to The 
Lady from the Sea. Guy Font, like Ibsen's heroine, 
has been glamoured by the call of the sea. Living 
among the peasantry on the wild Atlantic seaboard of 
Ireland's west coast, the boy had imbibed their legends 
of the element by which he is fascinated. His strange, 
impractical disposition makes him an easy prey to the 
designs of his aunt, Mrs. Font, who has been deprived 



26 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

of her late husband's estates by the death of their son. 
The Font property has passed to her nephew Guy, 
to the intense chagrin of Mrs. Font, who had schemed 
and plotted during her husband's lifetime to advance 
their welfare at the expense of his honor. This erratic 
lad, heedless of everything but the voice of the sea, 
stands between her and her purpose of possession, and 
her one desire is to remove him. 

Mrs. Font, could she encompass the death of Guy, 
would be able, she fancies, to realize a double purpose. 
Once she had secured the estates they would serve as 
suflScient do\\Ty to attract Lord Mask into marrying 
her daughter, Agnes. INIask is the only friend of Guy 
in all this circle of commonplace or scheming individ- 
uals, for despite the difference in their ages, these two 
are united by the common fascination exercised upon 
them by the sea and its mystery. Mrs. Font decides 
to put this fascination to account in so far as it affects 
the boy, by hearkening to that peasant instinct in 
herself which hints that Guy Font is one of the sea 
fairies. She persuades him to show her a cave where 
he is in the habit of communing with the spirits of the 
sea, and they depart together. Wlien she returns 
alone, some time later, suspicion falls upon her, but 
not before she has been disappointed of her last hope. 
Lord Mask, unbalanced by the death of his young 
friend, seeks to find Guy in the waves, which finally 
carry him off to join the young lad in another world. 
When the police come to arrest Mrs. Font, they find 
her hanging dead from the staircase of Fonthill, w^here 
she has used the child's swing to commit suicide. 



EDWARD MARTYN 27 

When The Enchanted Sea was performed at the 
Ancient Concert Rooms, DubUn, in 1904, — the scene 
of the inauguration of the Dramatic Revival, — it was 
received with much attention, in spite of the inadequate 
interpretation it then was given. As pubUshed, it is 
marred by clumsiness of characterization which might 
easily be concealed by the performance of a good com- 
pany. The characters are finely conceived and if 
presented by capable actors they would certainly lose 
something of the stiffness which renders them artificial 
or lifeless in the printed play. On the whole, it must 
be said that Edward iMartyn has done very well by a 
theme which, in the nature of things, could be saved 
from melodrama only by the hand of a master drama- 
tist. 

A long interval separates these two volumes of plays 
from the next work for the theatre which Edward 
Martyn was to issue in book form. When the three 
experimental years of the Irish Literary Theatre ex- 
pired, and the partnership of Yeats, INIoore, and IMartyn 
was dissolved, the last-mentioned writer found himself 
isolated in a literary community whose main interest 
was in the direction of folk-drama. He had, therefore, 
but little incentive to write, being dependent for the 
performance of his work upon amateur organizations, 
such as The Players Club, which produced An En- 
chanted Sea, and The National Players, who were 
responsible for The Tale of a Toivn. It was not until 
these spasmodic and unrelated forces, working for the 
advancement of intellectual drama, had crystallized 
into a more permanent form, that Mart^^i's creative 



28 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

activities were aroused. During many years he was a 
supporter of every kind of theatrical enterprise which 
promised to make Ireland acquainted with the better 
class drama of our time, an experience which we could 
not expect to enjoy at the hands of our Anglicized 
theatres of commerce. At last, The Independent 
Theatre Company promised to become an institution of 
the kind associated with the name of its English proto- 
type of twenty years ago. 

This association undertook to produce literary plays, 
irrespective of the national character, and one of its 
earliest performances was that of Edward Martyn's 
Grangecolman in 1912. Although it came so long after 
the author's previous work, this play showed in him 
the same preoccupation with the psychological drama 
as in the days of Ibsenism. Rosmershohn was suggested 
to several critics by this narrative of a daughter's 
jealousy, when she finds herself supplanted in the life 
of her father by the secretary whom he purposes to 
marry. Catharine Devlin is a typical product of the 
feminist movement, as it is revealing itself in the first 
moments of discontent and disillusionment. In order 
to escape the duties of her home, she introduces Clare 
Farquhar to act in her stead as amanuensis to her 
father, but she returns to find that he and Clare have 
found happiness in the reciprocal help of their relation- 
ship. While Catharine and her ineffective husband 
drift aimlessly along, cherishing barren ideals, they 
form a striking contrast to the quiet industrious con- 
tentment of the home which she once fled as a burden. 
Having failed in her career as a doctor, and disappointed 



EDWARD MARTYN 29 

in her demands upon life, Catharine is stirred, Hke 
another Hedda Gabler, by the spectacle of her father's 
dependence on, and trust in, Clare Farquhar. She 
must, at all costs, destroy the happiness which she 
herself has never known. Grangecolman is haunted 
by a family ghost, and she conceives the idea of im- 
personating this phantom for the purpose of frightening 
Michael Colman and Clare. But the latter is unim- 
pressed by the bogey, in spite of the evident fears of 
the other members of the household, and when the 
white-robed figure makes its appearance, a revolver 
shot ends the fable and, at the same time, the existence 
of Catharine Devlin. 

The faulty characterization and a certain amateurish- 
ness, noticeable in the earlier plays, are almost wholly 
absent from Grangecolman, which shows that the 
intervening years have left their experience of the stage 
upon Edward Martyn. The mystic, symbolic Ibsen- 
ism of Maeve and The Heather Field has made way for 
a cold realism, which holds the spectator by the inten- 
sity of its reflection of reality. The characteristic 
touch of Scandinavian melodrama is not wanting, but 
the author is able to carry it off as successfully as did 
Ibsen before him. When one sees how Martyn has 
triumphed over his natural tendency towards an over- 
formal dialogue, one cannot but regret that his talent 
should have lain almost quiescent for want of an occa- 
sion for its exercise. He has had to content himself with 
amateur performances, where the defects inevitable in 
such associations have done little to render supple his 
dramatic speech. He has never enjoyed the inestimable 



30 THE CONTEMPOKARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

good fortune which befell the successors of the Irish 
Literary Theatre. They found interpreters who were 
not only born to fit their parts, but whose histrionic 
powers have saved from oblivion many a play of no 
greater intrinsic merit than those of Edward Marty n. 
Early in 1915, the reward of many years of waiting 
and patient effort came to the founder of the Irish 
Literary Theatre, when his original plan was resusci- 
tated, this time under the title, "The Irish Theatre." 
A satirical comedy by Edward Martyn, The Dream 
Physician, and two new works by young Irish play- 
wrights were produced, in the course of the first two 
seasons, in addition to plays by Chekhov. To com- 
plete the illusion of former days, George Moore was 
among the spectators at one of the premieres, a fact 
which he signalled in a letter to the press, announcing 
the resumption of his interrupted relations with Edward 
Martyn, and repeating the original terms of his drama- 
tic creed. Clearly a case of history repeating itself. 
Yet, not quite, for there is every reason to suppose 
that this renewal of effort will not have the brief career 
of what was, after all, a mere experiment. There is 
felt to be an increasing need for a theatre in Ireland 
which will hold up to nature that half of the mirror 
which is not visible in the Irish National Theatre, 
where a too exclusive care for the folk drama has re- 
sulted in giving a one-sided appearance to our dramatic 
activities. This is precisely the rock upon which the 
first movement split, as we shall see in the next chapter. 
Meanwhile, it is satisfactory to note that the stand 
taken by Edward Martyn, nearly twenty years ago, 



EDWARD MARTYN 31 

has at last been translated into practical terms, by the 
creation of a theatre to carry on the work he has dis- 
interestedly served in the face of much discouragement. 
Not the least of his disadvantages has been the phenom- 
enal popularity of an enterprise representing the very 
opposite tendency to that which he championed from 
the beginning. 



CHAPTER III 
The Beginnings of the Irish National Theatre 

In the first number of Samhain (1901-1908), which 
was destined to be the organ of the Irish National, as 
distinct from the Irish Literary, Theatre, W. B. Yeats 
wrote the epitaph of the initial experiment. "Whether 
the Irish Literary Theatre has a successor made on its 
own model or not, we can claim that a dramatic move- 
ment, which will not die, has been started." And that 
is, indeed, the principal achievement of those three 
years which ended as the words were written. Of the 
plays performed, only those of Edward Martyn were 
in themselves important, excepting, of course. The 
Countess Cathleen, which belongs more properly to the 
second phase of the Dramatic Revival. The Diarmuid 
and Grania of Moore and Yeats was not any better 
than so unusual a collaboration would lead one to 
anticipate, but it shared the program of the final 
season with Douglas Hyde's The Twisting of the Rope, 
whose performance was productive of much good. In 
the first place it gave the impulse to a whole school of 
Gaelic dramatists, and in the second, it drew attention 
to the superiority and desirability of Irish actors, 

32 



BEGINNINGS OF THE IRISH NATIONAL THEATRE 33 

having been performed by native players, unlike all 
the other plays of the Irish Literary Theatre, which 
were produced by English companies. 

The actors in this Gaelic production were amateurs, 
trained by W. G. Fay, who had previously organized 
the Ormond Dramatic Society. His work with this 
Society made him realize the possibility that lay in 
the extension to Anglo-Irish plays of the advantages 
of native interpretation enjoyed by the Gaelic, and 
when his brother Frank read the first act of A. E.'s 
Deirdre in The All Ireland Review, they decided to make 
this play the starting point of their experiment. A. E. 
completed his poetic drama of Irish legend, rehearsing 
in a small hall, in emulation of Antoine of the Theatre 
Libre and not content with that, he interested Yeats 
in the group. Soon the latter' s Cathleen ni Houlihan 
was added to their new repertoire, and both plays were 
produced in April, 1902. The following October, in 
the second issue of Samhain, the Fays' Irish National 
Dramatic Company was formally recognized as the 
legitimate successor of the Irish Literary Theatre, and 
the second phase of the Dramatic Movement was 
definitely inaugurated. As emphasizing the separate 
and independent origin of the existing National Theatre, 
W. B. Yeats's announcement in Samhain may be 
quoted : " The Irish Literary Theatre has given place 
to a company of Irish actors. Its Committee saw them 
take up the work all the more gladly because it had not 
formed them or influenced them." And a little further 
on we find him enthusiastic in praise of the acting: 
" It was the first performance I had seen, since I under- 



34 THE CONTEMPORAEY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

stood these things, in which the actors kept still enough 
to give poetical writing its full effect upon the stage. 
I had imagined such acting, though I had not seen it/' 
These quotations sufficiently indicate to what extent 
the tradition of acting which gave its strength to the 
Irish Players, and conferred distinction upon the 
Irish National Theatre, was due to forces entirely differ- 
ent from those which lay behind the first manifestation 
of the Dramatic Revival. By the time the latter was 
nearing its close, there had come into existence an 
association which corresponded far more closely to the 
ideal which Yeats had in view. Once A. E. had brought 
him into contact with the brothers Fay and their enter- 
prise, there could be no longer any doubt as to which 
branch of dramatic activity he would- favor. Martyn, 
on the other hand, did not share his enthusiasm, so 
there could be no question of his following Yeats. In 
due course Yeats was elected president, and A. E. 
vice president, of the Irish National Dramatic Society. 
Lady Gregory and others rallied to this new association, 
and it became certain that the Irish Theatre was 
definitely committed to a program somewhat unlike 
that conceived by Martyn and Moore. The former 
did not abandon hope immediately, but proceeded to 
criticize his colleagues for their shortsighted support 
of an undertaking utterly different from their own 
Literary Theatre. In reply to this criticism, and in 
explanation of the true intentions of the Movement, 
Yeats delivered himself as follows : 

Mr. Martyn argued in The United Irishman some 
months ago that our actors should try to train them- 



BEGINNINGS OF THE IRISH NATIONAL THEATRE 35 

selves for the modern drama of society. The acting 
of plays of heroic life, or plays like Cathleen ni Houlihan, 
with its speech of the country people, did not seem to 
him a preparation. It is not ; but that is as it should 
be. Our movement is a return to the people. . . . 
and the drama of society would but magnify a condition 
of life which the countryman and the artisan could but 
copy to their hurt. The play that is to give them a 
quite natural pleasure should either tell them of their 
own life, or of that life of poetry where every man can 
see his own image, because there alone does human 
nature escape from arbitrary conditions. Plays about 
drawing-rooms are written for the middle classes of 
great cities, for the classes who live in drawing-rooms, 
but if you would uplift the man of the roads you must 
write about the roads, or about the people of romance, 
or about great historical people. 

This quotation, which amounts to a confession of 
literary faith, appeared in the same 1902 issue of 
Samhain that proclaimed the Fays and their company 
the rightful successors of the Irish Literary Theatre. 
Nothing could more clearly establish the point at issue 
between the two, or more unequivocally declare the 
complete identity of Yeats's ideals with those of the 
brothers Fay, whom he admitted, as we have seen, to 
have formed independently their conclusions as to what 
should constitute the work of an Irish National Theatre. 
Although Yeats himself has placed on record the priority 
of the Fays' claim, that fact is not usually insisted upon 
in popular accounts of the Dramatic Movement 
in Ireland. It is, however, important, not only as a 
matter of historical justice, but also because its avoid- 
ance has resulted in a tendency to overlook the presence 



36 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

in that movement of two phases, — the one inter- 
national and initiated by Martyn, Yeats, and Moore 
under the force of continental European example, the 
other intensely national, and due to the work of two 
men of histrionic genius, aided by a group of young 
poets and dramatists. 

This circle included several names subsequently to 
become well known to lovers of Anglo-Irish literature, 
such as Padraic Colum, Seumas O'Sullivan and James 
Cousins. To these may be added J. M. Synge, al- 
though he did not come into the movement until later, 
in 1903, when the control of the Fays' enterprise had 
passed into the hands of W. B. Yeats and Lady Greg- 
ory. Prior to that event, the Irish National Dramatic 
Company had made itself responsible for the production 
of some half-dozen plays, of which the following were 
afterwards published in book form : Deirdre by A. E., 
Cathleen ni Houlihan by W. B. Yeats, The Sleep of the 
King by James Cousins, and A Pot of Broth by W. B. 
Yeats. In the order mentioned, they occupied the 
program of the Society during its two seasons of 
1902. In the early part of the following year a pros- 
pectus was issued stating that : " The Irish National 
Theatre Society was formed to continue on a more 
permanent basis the work of the Irish Literary 
Theatre." In a sense this statement is correct, inas- 
much as W. G. Fay's Irish National Dramatic Company 
had been recognized in Samhain as the successor of the 
Literary Theatre. But, as we have seen, his Company 
was already in existence, independently of the under- 
taking of Martyn and Yeats. It would, therefore, be 



BEGINNINGS OF THE IRISH NATIONAL THEATRE 37 

more accurate to say that the Irish National Theatre 
Society was formed to carry on the work which the 
Fays had initiated, as, indeed, the slight variation of 
title itself implies. 

The year 1903 saw the arrival of J. M. Synge, and 
the active participation of Lady Gregory in the move- 
ment which she had heretofore supported in a less 
prominent fashion. The latter's Twenty-Five and the 
former ^s In the Shadoio of the Glen, together with Pad- 
raic Colum's Broken Soil, introduced for the first time 
three dramatists who have since contributed to the 
Irish Theatre its most characteristic and most remark- 
able work. As if to emphasize the distinction of a 
year marked by the revelation of these talents, and 
further enriched by the production of two of Yeats's 
most beautiful plays, The Hour Glass and The King^s 
Threshold, 1903 is also the date of Americans entrance 
into the history of the Theatre. The then recently 
founded Irish Literary Society of New York produced 
The Pot of Broth and Cathleen ni Houlihan, in addition 
to Yeats^s Land of Heart's Desire, which had been 
revived in this country in 1901, after its original pro- 
duction at the Avenue Theatre, London, in 1894, but 
curiously enough, was not performed in Dublin until 
ten years later. Finally, the year witnessed the first 
tour abroad of the Irish Players, who went to London 
and performed five pieces from their current repertoire 
to a select but enthusiastic audience. The result of 
that visit was to bring the Dramatic Revival to a turn- 
ing point in its evolution, with consequences whose end 
is not yet in sight. 



38 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

An Englishwoman, Miss A. E. F. Horniman, who 
had for many years devoted herself to the support of 
the repertory theatre, was so deeply impressed by the 
qualities of the Irish Players and their plays, that she 
resolved to give substantial form to her approval. 
Heretofore they had been obliged to perform in con- 
cert halls and similar places, wholly devoid of the 
scenic and seating accommodation suitable for theatri- 
cal performances. Miss Horniman obtained the lease 
of the Mechanics' Institute, Dublin, a small theatre 
which had been given over to vaudeville of the roughest 
kind. She enlarged and rebuilt it, and, under the name 
of the Abbey Theatre, it became the home of the Irish 
Players, rent free, for a period of six years, from 1904. 
During that time a small annual subsidy was also part 
of Miss Horniman's gift, but in 1910 this was with- 
drawn, when the Abbey Theatre was purchased from 
her by public subscription. 

The absence of a subsidy, and the financial obliga- 
tions involved in this purchase, were to have their 
effect upon the fortunes of the Irish Theatre, but there 
can be little doubt as to the value of the services ren- 
dered by Miss Horniman during the Sturm und Drang 
period of its existence. The economic independence 
which made possible the resistance subsequently 
offered to the exigencies of ignorance was solely due 
to her magnanimity in giving Ireland ''the first en- 
dowed Theatre in any English-speaking country", as 
Yeats described it. It was not until 1907 that Miss 
Horniman conferred a similar advantage upon her own 
country by establishing in Manchester the now famous 



BEGINNINGS OF THE IRISH NATIONAL THEATRE 39 

Gaiety Theatre, as the first repertory theatre in Great 
Britain. This institution has since enabled her to 
give further evidence of her interest in the Irish drama- 
tists by the production of such of their plays as could 
not obtain a hearing in Dublin. 

The Irish National Theatre Society began the year 
1904 in its old makeshift quarters where, nevertheless, 
two notable plays were produced, TJie Shadowy Waters 
by Yeats, and SjTige's Riders to the Sea, before the 
Abbey Theatre was ready to receive them. In Decem- 
ber, however, the Players were housed in their new 
home, and during the succeeding twelve months many 
valuable additions were made to their repertoire, in- 
cluding The Well of the Saints, by J. M. Synge, The 
Land by Padraic Colum, and Spreading the News, the 
first of those amusing farces which have constituted 
Lady Gregory's greatest success in the Theatre. By 
the end of the next year it was evident that the National 
Theatre had come to stay; new plays and new play- 
wrights offered themselves in an abundance sufficient 
to indicate a wide response to the new stimulus, and 
there was no doubt but that Miss Horniman's experi- 
ment was in the process of being justified. To conse- 
crate this promise of success, and to affirm, as it were, 
the official and national existence of the Dramatic 
Movement, there came the final form of that title whose 
variations, — from "W. G. Fay's Irish National 
Dramatic Company" to the "Irish National Theatre 
Society" — we have noticed. Henceforward the or- 
ganization was known as the National Theatre So- 
ciety. Thus, the Irish Literary Theatre prepared 



40 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

the way for the National Theatre, which was largely 
the creation of W. G. Fay. As Yeats wrote at the time 
in Samhain: "We owe our National Theatre Society 
to him and his brother, and we have always owed to 
his playing our chief successes." 

If it be asked what was the special contribution of 
the Fays to the Theatre, the reply must be, the acting 
of the Irish Players. Wherever the latter have ap- 
peared, the peculiar quality of their art has not failed 
to draw forth much comment, whose terms have be- 
come familiar through the columns of a thousand news- 
papers and reviews. It will be enough to recall here 
in brief the characteristics of the so-called "Abbey 
Tlieatre school " of acting, as they have impressed 
the majority of critics, bearing in mind that their 
cultivation must be attributed to the Fays : to W. G. 
Fay, who long served as stage manager, and to Frank 
Fay, whose study of diction made him the natural 
teacher of his comrades. Both brothers had found in 
French acting the model which was at once the most 
perfect manifestation of the art, and that most re- 
moved from the histrionic methods of the English stage. 
Hence, no doubt, the surprise, to English-speaking 
audiences, of the performances given by the Irish 
Players, where the unusual nature of the plays them- 
selves was heightened by the un-English manner of 
their interpretation. 

The acting of the Players trained by Fay bore many 
traces of the model by which it was inspired, and we 
need not be surprised to hear that Frank Fay had 
amassed a most extraordinary collection of books 



BEGINNINGS OF THE IRISH NATIONAL THEATRE 41 

dealing with the art of speaking, mainly French works. 
W. B. Yeats at once recognized a certain similarity 
between the players of the Theatre Fran^ais and those 
of the Irish company, as an early issue of Savihain 
shows. There we find him attributing — wrongly as 
it happened — to the example of de Max and Sarah 
Bernhardt in Phedre, some of the effects which had 
pleased him in Fay's work. The latter had not seen 
the performance in question, but he had absorbed at 
the fountain-head the science and art which had gone 
to make that performance, and thousands like it, a 
charm for the eye and ear. The stage grouping by 
which the actors were taught to efface themselves, in 
order that attention should be concentrated upon the 
speaker, was one of the lessons imparted by French 
tradition to the Irish Players. From the same teacher 
they learned to dispense with those absurd movements 
and gestures into which the delivery of a sustained 
speech seems to galvanize popular English actors. 
Further, in truly French fashion, the Players were 
made to realize that even the most minor part is im- 
portant, and must be interpreted with the same care 
and skill as the principal role. The absence of the 
"star" system facilitated this, as the same performer 
would be given parts of the most varied importance, 
and could count upon as much appreciation in a sub- 
ordinate as in a more prominent role. Another conse- 
quence of this condition was that the scene could not 
be given exclusively to a display of one talent in the 
company, as is the case when the actor-manager 
favorite performs for the gratification of his admirers. 



42 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

Many other innovations were made, which have 
since become commonplaces by reason of the increase 
of "little theatres", where the production of literary 
drama has made necessary the abolition of a system 
incompatible with any art more serious than that of 
the matinee idol. The most important factor in the 
work of the Irish Players, however, was elocution, to 
which Frank Fay brought the fruits of his deep study of 
the French masters, and the practical demonstration 
of his own beautiful voice as he had developed it. It 
will be remembered that what at once captured Yeats 
in the Fays' company was their power to give full effect 
to spoken verses, and he has frequently expressed his 
personal debt to Frank Fay for the manner in which 
the latter has rendered the lines of the poet's own 
contributions to the repertory of the National Theatre. 
The soft rhythmic speech and delicate intonation of 
the Irish Players has added immeasurably to the ap- 
peal of the Irish playwrights, whether in prose or 
verse, and has made comprehensible the profound 
poetry of the Anglo-Irish idiom to those unacquainted 
with the language as spoken. So perfectly did Fay 
consummate the harmony of idiom and diction that 
even Mrs. Patrick Campbell did not prove a wholly 
successful interpreter of Yeats's Deirdre, when she 
played the title part in London. Miss Sara AUgood, 
in the subordinate role of the chief musician, attracted 
greater praise, thus procuring most striking and im- 
partial testimony to the genius of the teacher by whose 
methods she was taught. 

By a happy chance W. G. Fay's talent lay in comedy, 



BEGINNINGS OF THE IRISH NATIONAL THEATRE 43 

while his brother's gift was in the interpretation of 
poetic drama. While Frank Fay created the parts of 
Forgael in The Shadowy Waters^ of Seanchan in The 
King's Threshold, of Naisi in Deirdre, and of Cuchu- 
lain in Bailees Strand, W. G. Fay infused his comedic 
spirit into the central figures of Singe's comedy, play- 
ing the Tramp in The Shadoiv of the Glen, Martin Doul 
in The Well of the Saints, and Christy Mahon in The 
Playboy of the Western World. In this way, Yeats 
and S}Tige were both in the fortunate position of having 
at their disposal perfect instruments for the expression 
of their respective geniuses. In Miss Moira O'Neill, 
Miss Maire nic Shiubhlaigh, and Miss Sara Allgood, not 
only Yeats and Synge in particular, but all the Irish 
playwrights of the first decade of the Dramatic Re- 
nascence, had interpreters whose skill in comedy was 
equaled only by their perfect mastery of speech and 
tragedy. 

In recent years the tradition created by the original 
group has been carried on by Messrs. Sinclair, Kerrigan, 
O'Donovan, and Miss Eithne Magee — to mention 
the more important members of the present Abbey 
Theatre Company, who may be regarded as pupils 
of the brothers Fay. Nowadays the older players 
occasionally perform at the Abbey Theatre, but, in 
the main, the later dramatists depend upon actors 
whose accession to the company has coincided with their 
own appearance in the list of contributors to the reper- 
tory of the Theatre. A school of acting was organized 
four years ago in order to train new players in the 
tradition created by the Fays, and from this material 



44 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

there have been drawn recruits who fill the gaps in the 
ranks of the original company. Unfortunately, the 
spirit of that tradition has tended to evaporate as 
those who inspired it drifted away, and a stereotyped 
style has replaced the spontaneity of old. In conse- 
quence, a certain disappointment has become percepti- 
ble in the comments which have greeted recent perfor- 
mances of the reconstructed company of Irish Players. 
Critics are accusing both the actors and playwrights 
of living upon the past reputation of the National 
Theatre. When considering the work of the dramatists 
in detail, we shall have occasion to notice this suspicion 
of deterioration which attaches no less to the dramatic 
literature itself, than to the conditions of its selection 
and execution. 

For the present it will suffice to say that the Irish 
Dramatic Movement was turned into a channel which 
flowed directly along the lines of national tradition, 
when its most vital forces converged upon the point 
of W. G. Fay's departure. It found through him the 
maximum intensity of expression, in that his art was 
precisely such as to stimulate the dramatization of the 
most characteristic elements of Irish life, and to provide 
the dramatists with an almost ideal vehicle of artis- 
tic realization. Poetic drama and folk-drama found 
equally their impulse and encouragement in the plans 
and methods whose ultimate justification was the birth 
of a National Theatre, unique in the English-speaking 
world. So closely related are players and playwrights 
that it was frequently difficult to decide the just meas- 
ure of credit due to each in their common triumph. 



BEGINNINGS OF THE lEISH NATIONAL THEATRE 45 

The comparative failure of foreign actors in Irish 
plays has already been alluded to, and finds its counter- 
part in the insignificance of the success obtained by 
such of the Irish Players as ventured into the English 
theatre of commerce. Before turning to the work of 
the dramatist whose literary ideals and practical ideal- 
ism have meant so much to the Irish Theatre, it is 
interesting to place on record his theory of drama. The 
following extract from an early article by W. B. Yeats 
in the 1903 issue of Samhain will show how closely his 
program coincided with the intention of the Fays, 
and the realization of their purpose : 

I think the theatre must be reformed in its plays, its 
speaking, its acting and its scenery. That is to say, 
I think there is nothing good about it at present. 

First. We have to write or find plays that will 
make the theatre a place of intellectual excitement — a 
place where the mind goes to be liberated. ... If 
we are to do this we must learn that beauty and truth 
are always justified of themselves, and that their 
creation is a greater service to our country than writing 
that compromises either in the seeming service of a 
cause. . . . 

Second. If we are to restore words to their sover- 
eignty we must make speech more important than 
gesture upon the stage. . . . An actor should under- 
stand how to so discriminate cadence from cadence, 
and to so cherish the musical lineaments of verse or 
prose that he delights the ear with a continually varied 
music. . . . 

Third. We must simplify acting, especially in 
poetic drama, and in prose drama that is remote from 
real life like my Hour-Glass, we must get rid of every- 



46 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

thing that is restless, everything that draws the atten- 
tion away from the sound of the voice, or from the few 
moments of intense expression, whether that expression 
is through the voice or through the hands. . . . 

Fourth. Just as it is necessary to simphfy gesture 
that it may accompany speech without being its rival, 
it is necessary to simplify both the form and color of 
scenery and costume. As a rule the background should 
be but a single color, so that the persons in the play, 
wherever they stand, may harmonize with it and pre- 
occupy our attention. . . . 

These lines are as fittingly a summary of the dramatic 
art of the National Theatre as they are an introduction 
to the writings of the poet who will always be entitled 
to the first place in any history of contemporary Irish 
drama. 



CHAPTER IV 
William Butler Yeats 



Writing and Environment 

It was not only a literary ideal, but also a literary 
generation, that separated the first and second phases 
of the Dramatic Revival in Ireland. W. B. Yeats was 
born in Dublin in 1865 ; he belonged, therefore, to that 
younger generation of poets and prose writers who at- 
tained manhood in the early "eighties'^ and initiated 
the movement commonly known as "the Celtic Re- 
nascence." He was the first of his contemporaries to 
obtain the recognition of a wide public, and he has come 
to be regarded as the embodiment of all that was, and is, 
represented by the Irish Literary Revival. George 
Moore aflSrmed in Vale that "all the Irish movement 
rose out of Yeats and returns to Yeats" — a somewhat 
loose way of indicating the predominant position of the 
poet in the history of modern Anglo-Irish literature. 
A recent biographer, Mr. Forrest Reid, elaborating the 
generalization still further in the direction of inaccu- 
racy, actually concludes that " no other writer of first- 

47 



48 THE CONTEMPORAKY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

rate importance" has been associated with the move- 
ment ! The names of A. E., John EgHnton, and J. M. 
Synge, to mention only the more important of Yeats's 
companions, are enough to indicate the dangers of the 
enthusiastic method in Uterary criticism. It is true, 
however, that earlier fame confirmed Yeats in the 
leadership of a movement which he had from the 
beginning consciously directed. It was, therefore, a 
natural outcome of that leadership that he should 
have associated himself with the dramatic ideals of 
the new generation, rather than with those of his elders. 
Six of Yeats's childhood years were spent in London, 
but at the age of fifteen he returned to Dublin, where 
he continued his education at the Erasmus Smith School, 
an institution where he formed the companionships 
which were to play an important part in the preparatory 
period of the Celtic Revival. His fellow pupils in- 
cluded several w^hose names were afterwards familiar 
to lovers of Irish poetry, — Charles Weekes, John 
Eglinton, and Charles Johnston. To these were 
added George W. Russell (A. E.), who joined the group 
which fought the political heresy of the time, namely, 
that patriotic verse was necessarily good poetry. 
Yeats, in particular, urged the claims of such poets 
as James Clarence Mangan and Samuel Ferguson, who 
had substituted the legends and lore of Ireland's an- 
tiquity for the rhetoric of aggressive nationalism. 
His success in this respect was such as to restore Irish 
poetry to literature, saving it from the semi-oblivion 
of political versification and song. Yeats imposed a 
new standard which was at once literary and national, 



WILLIAM BtJTLER TEATS 49 

and out of its adoption there grew that poetic flowering 
which constituted the chief distinction of the Celtic 
Renascence. 

In 1889 Yeats published The Wanderings of Oisin, a 
volume in which he had collected the best of his con- 
tributions to the Irish reviews, and whose unusual qual- 
ities at once attracted attention, constituting it, as it 
were, the herald of the Literary Revival. With those 
exceptions, such of these poems as had previously been 
published were reprinted from Irish periodicals. The 
Dublin University Review, The Irish Monthly, and The 
Irish Fireside, but the year of their publication in book 
form marked the end of his first period of literary ac- 
tivity in Ireland. During the decade from 1889 to 1899 
the poet resided chiefly in London (with occasional 
visits to Dublin and Paris) and almost all his work 
appeared in English newspapers and reviews. He 
became a member of the Rhymers' Club, forming with 
Lionel Johnson and John Todhunter the Irish contin- 
gent at that gathering which was the poetic center of 
London during the "eighteen-nineties." These were 
ten years of intense experience and constant work, 
during which Yeats steadily rose to the first rank 
among his English contemporaries. In 1892 he pub- 
lished The Countess Cathleen and Various Legends and 
Lyrics; in 1893, The Celtic Twilight, and in 1894 his first 
play, The Land of Heart's Desire, was produced at the 
Avenue Theatre. The Secret Rose came in 1897 to 
confirm the estimate of his powers as a delicate prose 
writer, which had been revealed in The Celtic Twilight, 
Meanwhile he had been busy as an editor and journal- 



60 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

ist, editing various collections of fairy stories, com- 
piling that useful anthology, A Book of Irish Verse 
(1895), and collaborating in the sumptuous three- 
volume edition of Blake, issued in 1893 by Bernard 
Quaritch. His own book of collected Poems ap- 
peared in 1895, and gave a complete survey of his verse 
from the beginning, in 1889. Four years later a re- 
vised edition of this volume indicated the spread of 
the author's fame, which reached a definite stage when 
The Wind Among the Reeds (1899) closed a period in 
the evolution of the poet's talent. 

This work was the culminating expression of a 
gradual preoccupation with the doctrine and specula- 
tions of mystic symbolism, which had first become 
noticeable in the revision and rearrangement of the 
verses which went to make up the 1895 edition of 
Poems. Direct contact with the English symbolists, 
and indirect association with the occultists and mystics 
of the French literature of the period, had led Yeats to 
elaborate the fund of natural mysticism which he 
brought with him to London. The simple mystic lean- 
ings of the Irish peasantry, illustrated in the lore of 
The Celtic Twilight, had become more conscious and 
more intellectual in the abstruse reveries of The 
Secret Rose, some of whose personages are transferred as 
weighty symbols to The Wind Among the Reeds. This 
little book, with its bulky glossary, is overburdened by 
a symbolism which essays to preach obscure doctrines 
whose clarity is by no means heightened by those pages 
of explanatory matter. Further progress in this 
direction was clearly impossible, for here the poet had 



WILLIAM BUTLEK YEATS 51 

reached the limit imposed by his vision. He had 
chastened and purified his verse, emptying it of ail 
rhetoric only to find that in escaping the latter he had 
become involved in a process no less reprehensible. 
This very economy of words had given his poetry an 
inhuman abstractness which failed to convey its in- 
tellectual message. Withal, however. The Wind Among 
the Reeds achieved success by its subtle beauty. It 
was the over-refinement of Yeats's art which gave us 
the quintessence of his poetic sphit and terminated the 
stage of pure lyricism. 

It was a happy coincidence that, at the moment when 
his lyric genius reached maturity, W. B. Yeats should 
have begun to turn his thoughts towards the theatre. 
The Wind Among the Reeds was issued in 1899, the 
year which gave birth to the Irish Literary Theatre. 
From that date up to the present time the energies 
of Yeats have been absorbed by the task of fostering in 
Ireland a national drama. He has not published a 
substantial volume of verse since, contenting himself 
with the preparation of the Collected Edition of his 
works in 1908, and the issue of occasional slender book- 
lets of prose and poetry, privately printed by the hand- 
press of his sisters at Dundrum, Ireland. Apart from 
these, and the revision of his earlier verse for new 
editions, all Yeats's original writings since 1899 have 
been destined for the stage or have been critical essays 
connected therewith. The effect of this constant par- 
ticipation in practical work and the necessity of com- 
plying with the exigencies of such an enterprise as the 
Irish Theatre, have not left the poet untouched. 



52 THE CONTEMPORAKY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

The later verse of W. B. Yeats shows him concerned 
with contemporary Irish life, and less remote from the 
passions and emotions of his time. He is still charged 
with obscurity, rather in obedience to an accepted 
convention than because of any actual return to the 
s\Tiibolic elaborations of The Wind Among the Reeds. 
The allusions and references which he introduces into 
his impassioned comments upon the people and events 
of to-day in Ireland are elusive only to the most impa- 
tient reader. Most of his admirers cannot but be stirred 
by these recent evidences of the return of a great poet's 
imagination to the scenes and passions of his earliest 
inspirations. An examination of Yeats 's non-dramatic 
WTitings since 1899 will show that the genius which can 
give us such poems as are found in The Green Helmet 
(1910) and Responsihiliiies (1914), — not to mention 
In the Seven Woods (1903) which has been reprinted 
in various collected editions, — must still be counted 
amongst the purest in modern Irish poetry. It is un- 
just and unfair to accuse Yeats, as so many have done, 
of impoverishing our I^tIc treasure by devoting the 
wealth of his mind to the theatre. His gifts to the 
former have been lavish, and are still precious, while 
he has enriched the latter in a measure far beyond that 
indicated by his own dramatic compositions. 

We have seen how he turned to the theatre at the end 
of his richest period of lyrical inspiration, a fact which 
would alone suffice to justify the wisdom of such a 
choice. But it is a mistake to suppose that this was 
a sudden manifestation of an interest hitherto unsus- 
pected. The earliest work of W. B. Yeats to be pub- 



WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS 53 

lished in book form was Mosada, a dramatic poem, which 
appeared in 1886, and this had been preceded, in the 
pages of the Dublin University Review, by The Island 
of Statues, " an Arcadian Faery Tale " in two acts, and 
by The Seeker, a dramatic poem, in two scenes. Evi- 
dently as far back as 1885 the dramatic form had ap- 
pealed to Yeats, even though he wrote with no thought 
of the stage. In 1892 his second volume of collected 
verse was published, with a play for its title piece, The 
Countess Cathleen, which was destined to be the in- 
augural production of the Irish Literary Theatre. Two 
years later, and five years before the latter event, the 
poet witnessed the first performance of his work upon 
the stage, when The Land of Heart's Desire was pro- 
duced in London. Some critics have taken this to be 
the starting point of Yeats's ambition to create an 
Irish Theatre, but the facts seem rather to indicate it 
as the crystallization of a tendency long present in his 
work. It certainly disposes of the theory that Yeats 
w^as abruptly torn from his true vocation by the impetus 
of the Dramatic Movement. 

Strict regard for the chronological method would 
impose the necessity of examining at this point the two 
plays just mentioned. They belong to a period anterior 
to the existence of the Irish Theatre, and do not seem to 
fall into the same category as their successors, which 
were written directly to meet the needs of that institu- 
tion. Yeats himself has given the lead in this respect 
to many critics, who have classified his drama in ac- 
cordance with his own selection. Twice he has divided 
his dramatic writings into two parts, giving the collec- 



54 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

live title, Plays for an Irish Theatre, to the work imme- 
diately connected with the Dramatic Movement in 
Ireland. The first occasion was on the publication of 
a series of five volumes — to which Yeats contributed 
four and Synge one — during the years 1903 to 1907. 
The second was in 1911, when he issued a volume of 
his collected plays under that title, but his later choice 
did not coincide exactly with that of the previous 
collection. 

The reason is not far to seek. All his writing for 
the stage has been governed by the presence of 
the Abbey Theatre, for w^hich even his earlier work 
has been fundamentally revised and rewritten. The 
Countess Cathleen as performed by the Irish Players 
in the version published in 1912 is by no means identi- 
cal with the title piece of the 1892 volume of lyrics; 
even the spelling of the name was altered on its second 
publication ! It is best to consider them in groups, 
according to the nature of their inspiration. For this 
we have the precedent of the author when arranging 
his Collected Works in the eight-volume edition of 1908. 
In that well-ordered presentation, the most satis- 
factory of the innumerable editions for which Yeats 
is noted, the destination or purpose of the plays is not 
the basis of titular differentiation. They are grouped 
mainly by reference to an approximate identity of mood 
or theme, without regard for chronology, the legendary 
dramas being in an earlier volume than the others, 
although of later conception. Here, however, we may 
reverse this order, reserving for the end those plays 
based upon the legends of Celtic history. 



WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS 55 



Miscellaneous Plays in Verse and Prose 

The Countess Cathleen, as originally conceived, was a 
lyrical drama whose poetic content far outweighed its 
dramatic significance. Starting with a popular folk- 
tale, whose theme is common to all ancient literatures, 
Yeats had less care for its adaptability to the stage than 
for its potential beauties, as unfolded by a poet rapidly 
approaching complete mastery of his art. The story 
relates how, at a time of dire famine in Ireland, two evil 
demons come, in the guise of human beings, to tempt 
men and women to barter their souls for food. The 
unholy traffic proceeds until the Countess Cathleen is 
moved to offer all her wealth in order to save her people. 
But the demoniacal powers have stolen her money and 
held back her shiploads of grain, for their supreme 
ambition is to capture this noble soul. Their triumph 
seems assured, for in desperation Cathleen agrees to 
sell her soul to the demons, on condition that she thereby 
redeem the souls already lost to them, and obtain the 
means of supporting the starving population until re- 
lief is in sight. The bargain is made in good faith by 
the Countess Cathleen, who dies of grief in the realiza- 
tion of her sacrifice. Her soul, however, is saved, as 
in a final vision we see her carried up to heaven : 

The light beats down : the gates of pearl are wide, 
And she is passing to the floor of peace. 
And Mary of the seven times wounded heart 
Has kissed her lips, and the long blessed hair 



56 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

Has fallen on her face ; the Light of Lights 
Looks always on the motive, not the deed, 
The Shadow of Shadows on the deed alone. 

Yeats has given much time and care to the revision 
of this play, infusing elements of a more dramatic life 
into it, but at the expense of its early poetic beauty. 
The subject is essentially alien to the modern stage, 
however effective it might have been in the less sophis- 
ticated ages of allegory and morality plays. There is 
something inherently incredible in the material repre- 
sentation of the supernatural protagonists, who are 
conceivable only to the eye of imagination. In spite 
of all he has done to make TJie Countess Cathleen con- 
vincing in the theatre, Yeats cannot progress beyond 
the limitations imposed by the theme itself, which is 
too tenuous for such exploitation. Consequently, his 
only reward is to find his critics regretting, at each re- 
vision, the disappearance of those beauties which made 
the original version impressive. The truth is, that 
early play, for all its faults of inexperience, had an 
appeal which endures, so long as one is content to re- 
gard the work as a dramatized poem. A sense of terror 
pervades the scene, as in those symbolistic dramas of 
Maeterlinck, where mysterious forces manifest their 
presence in the occurrence of simple, but significant, 
incidents. 

The barking of a dog, a hen fluttering in fear of the 
unseen, the sight of two horned owls before the window, 
— these are the portents of impending evil, confirmed 
by reports of strange phenomena: "a woman met a 



WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS 57 

man with ears spread out, and they moved up and down 
like wings of bats" ; a herdsman saw "a man who had 
no mouth, nor ears, nor eyes, his face a wall of flesh." 
Finally, when the holy shrine falls from its niche, She- 
mus cries, as he crushes it under foot : 

The Mother of God has dropped asleep, 

And all her household things have gone to wrack. 

A fitting moment for the entry of the two soul mer- 
chants, who thereupon begin then* work of damnation. 
By a thousand little touches Yeats contrives to create 
that atmosphere of suggestion and anguish in which the 
typical drama of symbolism evolves . B ut he does more ; 
he transfigures the whole play by verbal felicities of the 
purest poetry : Cathleen's dying words : 

Bend down your faces, Oona and Aleel : 
I gaze upon them as the swallow gazes 
Upon the nest under the eave, before 
He wander the loud waters. . . . 

or the famous song of Aleel : 

Impetuous heart, be still, be still: 

Your sorrowful love may never be told ; 

Cover it up with a lonely tune. 

He who could bend all things to His will 

Has covered the door of the infinite fold 

With the pale stars and the wandering moon. 

There are so many wonderful lines in The Countess 
Caihleen that brief quotation is perhaps worse than use- 
less to convey an adequate idea of this beautiful little 



58 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

play, which has so unfortunately failed in its attempt 
to satisfy two wholly dissimilar audiences. It will 
always receive impatient criticism from those who are 
convinced a priori that Yeats is not a dramatist, and 
who dismiss contemptuously his stage demons with 
all the primitive mystery to which they are related. 
On the other hand, it will be praised by admirers of 
the lyric poet, while they bemoan the excisions of the 
dramatist engaged in making a play out of the material 
of an exquisite poem. There remains, however, a third 
class (in every sense of the word) of criticism, which 
may be mentioned as one of those literary curiosities, 
to whose continued existence exasperated national sensi- 
tiveness has proved most propitious. 

It will be remembered that The Countess Cathleen 
was the piece with which the Irish Literary Theatre 
began its career in 1899. The event was marked by 
one of those demonstrations of aesthetic illiteracy which 
have from time to time conferred a certain notoriety 
upon works deserving of more serious fame. A poli- 
tician, a cardinal, and a newspaper combined forces in 
order to stir up opposition to the play, on the ground 
that it was blasphemous and unpatriotic. The first 
charge was based upon the language of the demons, 
the second upon the theme itself. It was argued that 
no Irishwoman would sell her soul to the devil, and that 
the personages of the play, natural and supernatural, 
referred in too irreverent fashion to sacred subjects, par- 
ticular offence being taken at the incident of the falling 
shrine already quoted. A number of Catholic students 
were induced to sign a protest, and the usual prepara- 



WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS 59 

tions for creating a disturbance in the theatre were 
made, so that the first performance was attended by a 
large body of police to quell the disturbers. Thus, the 
Irish Theatre was inaugurated in circumstances which 
were to be repeated in its hour of greatest success, when 
rioting greeted the production of J. M. Synge's The 
Playboy of the Western World. It then became evident 
that the type of critic who could dismiss The Countess 
Cathleen as "a ridiculous and offensive absurdity'* 
was not yet extinct, although happily he has consistently 
failed to alter the course of the Irish Literary Revival. 
If frequent production be the test of popularity, 
then The Land of Hearfs Desire is Yeats's most success- 
ful appeal to the playgoer. It was not only, as has been 
stated, the first of his plays to be performed, but was 
also the means of his introduction to the American 
stage in 1901. Here again the poet found his theme in 
folklore, the motive being contained in the introductory 
chapter to Yeats's Fairy and Folk Tales of the Irish 
Peasantry, where he says : " On Midsummer Eve, when 
the bonfires are lighted on every hill in honour of St. 
John, the fairies are at their gayest, and sometimes 
steal away beautiful mortals to be their brides." The 
little drama takes place in the kitchen of Maurteen 
Bruin and his wife, Bridget, whose son has just brought 
home his newly-married bride. Shawn's young wife, 
Mary, is portrayed as a delicate, fanciful girl, whose 
thoughts are with her book of legends, rather than with 
the housewifely duties of her new state. Bridget ap- 
peals to the priest to dissuade Mary from her reading, 
but the latter is fascinated by the fairy tale of Princess 



60 THE CONTEMPORAKY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

Edain, who heard a voice singing on May Eve, and 
followed it until she came to the land : 

Where nobody gets old and godly and grave. 
Where nobody gets old and crafty and wise, 
Where nobody gets old and bitter of tongue. 

The conversation then turns upon the fairies, and 
Mary Bruin is warned of the dangers which beset her 
this Midsummer Eve, but she is heedless of advice, and 
even cries to the fairies to take her. Unwittingly she 
has placed herself in their power by giving fire and food 
to several mysterious callers, whom the older folk rec- 
ognize as emissaries of "the good people." Eventually 
she repents of her willfulness, but it is too late. Mary 
is glamoured by the singing of a little child who, having 
entered the kitchen, is gradually revealed, by various 
signs, as not of this world. She cannot, for example, 
bear the sight of a crucifix hanging on the wall, and not 
until Father Hart has removed it does she begin to exer- 
cise fully her magic power. With dancing and song the 
fairy child fascinates the soul of Mary Bruin, while 
the terror-stricken peasants gather about the priest, 
who is powerless in the absence of the crucifix. The 
spirit of yet another mortal is lured away to the " land 
of Heart's Desire", and Shawn is left with the lifeless 
body of Mary in his arms. 

Out of this perfect little folk tale Yeats has made a 
symbolical drama of great beauty of language and 
execution. Prior to its revision in 1912, The Land of 
Hearts Desire was a prolonged delight to the ear by 
reason of the continuous music of its verse, which cor- 



WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS 61 

responded so intimately to the "drama-laden mood" 
of the play. Something of this quality has been lost 
in remodelling the lines to secure a greater degree of 
dramatic effectiveness. But there is still a wealth of 
poetry to enhance the effect of this fable which tells 
of the nostalgia of a soul for the Beyond, once it has 
glimpsed in vision the magic world of the spirit. The 
tedium of human life has seized upon Mary Bruin, and 
all her thoughts are concentrated upon the distant land 
of enchantment, which is revealed to her, in truly Celtic 
fashion, by the whispering of the wind through the for- 
ests and the waters lapping on the lake shore. Yeats 
has often sung of this, as have many Irish poets, — Nora 
Hopper in her Fairy Music, James Cousins in The Bell 
Branch, Thomas Boyd in To the Leandn Sidhe. The bur- 
den of their song is in the lines which close the play : 

The wind blows out of the gates of the day, 

The wind blows over the lonely heart. 

And the lonely of heart is withered away. 

While the fairies dance in a place apart. 

Shaking their milk-white feet in a ring. 

Tossing their milk-white arms in the air ; 

For they hear the wind laugh and murmur and sing 

Of a land where even the old are fair. 

And even the wise are merry of tongue ; 

But I heard a reed of Coolaney say : 

"When the wind has laughed and murmured and sung 

The lonely of heart must wither away." 

The revised version of The Land of Heart's Desire, 
as it was revived at the Abbey Theatre in 1911, has 



62 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

been the subject of some adverse criticism, but the 
complaints have all had a literary basis. Indignation 
is expressed at the manner in which beautiful passages 
have been suppressed, whereas there was a time when 
morality, not poetry, was the question at issue between 
Yeats and his critics. In 1904 a booklet by a Mr. F. 
H. O'Donnell was issued, under the title. The Stage 
Irishman of the Pseudo-Celtic Drama, in which the work 
and motives of W. B. Yeats, Edward Martyn, and their 
colleagues were impugned in a manner only compa- 
rable to the hysterical manifestations of the anti- 
Synge campaign. Indeed, Mr. O'Donnell's effort would 
not deserve exhumation were it not that he represented 
an attitude of mind with which the Irish Theatre had 
to contend, and whose disappearance must largely be 
attributed to the steadfast purpose of Yeats and his 
supporters. His pamphlet may, therefore, be of some 
pathological interest to the American public, which has 
to-day more frequent opportunity than is fortunately 
possible in Ireland to observe the same influences at 
work. 

Mr. O'Donnell devotes many pages to collecting and 
elaborating the abusive criticism which greeted The 
Countess Cathleen, and then turns his attention to The 
Land of Heart's Desire. It is described as "another 
revolting burlesque of Irish Catholic religion", and is, 
we are informed, even worse than its predecessor, being 
"instinct with dechristianisation ! " If the specific 
object of this wrath be sought, it would appear to be the 
incident of the removal of the crucifix by Father Hart. 
This "blasphemous twaddle", as the scene is elegantly 



WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS 63 

designated, affected certain hyper-sensitive persons ex- 
actly as did the faUing shrine in The Countess Cathleen. 
Yet, as we have seen, both were part of a series of 
premonitions, announcing the approach of some super- 
natural event, in the manner now most readily asso- 
ciated with the dramas of Maeterlinck. The author 
of the pamphlet, however, with the characteristic ob- 
tuseness of the class whose spokesman he is, can see in 
these intrinsically unimportant incidents nothing short 
of a deliberate onslaught upon Christian beliefs. The 
chauvinists, moral and political, of Irish criticism have 
never departed from this line of attack, and The Stage 
Irishman of the Pseudo-Celtic Drama contains the quin- 
tessence of their intolerant spirit. It may be recom- 
mended to the cynical, for there they will find, some 
years before the event, all the stock "arguments" with 
which The Playboy of the Western World was so noisily 
belabored : the knowing references to "Baudelairian", 
"decadent French" influences, the moral vaporings 
and the patriotic indignation. It is strange to reread 
the phrases which, so freely applied to the ironic extrav- 
aganza of Synge, had also served to excite prejudices 
against the two poetic fantasies of the genius most 
remote from his. Yeats is fortunate, indeed, in that his 
recent critics have challenged his judgment upon points 
which are at least within the scope of intelligent dis- 
cussion. 

It is an interesting fact that the most intensely 
dramatic play which Yeats has written for the Irish 
Theatre should be the little "one-acter", Cathleen ni 
Houlihan, This was the companion piece to A. E.'s 



64 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

Deirdre, when W. G. Fay's company inaugurated the sec- 
ond phase of the Theatre in April, 1902, and it is one of 
those rare cases in which the author has succeeded in 
pleasing all critics, not excluding the extremists, to 
whom reference has just been made. A further interest 
is lent to the circumstances of this success by reason of 
its being Yeats's first prose play. It was published in 
the issue of Samhain for October, 1902, and appeared 
in book form before the end of that year. A few months 
later, in dedicating the series of Plays for an Irish 
Theatre to Lady Gregory, the author made public some 
facts concerning Cathleen ni Houlihan which serve to 
explain the unique position it holds in Yeats's dramatic 
writings : 

"One night I had a dream, almost as distinct as a 
vision, of a cottage where there was well-being and fire- 
light and talk of marriage, and into the midst of that 
cottage there came an old woman in a long cloak. She 
was Ireland herself, that Cathleen ni Houlihan for 
whom so many songs have been sung, and about whom 
so many stories have been told, and for w^hose sake so 
many have gone to their death. I thought if I could 
write this out as a little play, I could make others see 
my dream as I had seen it, but I could not get down out 
of that high window of dramatic verse." 

We learn, then, that with Lady Gregory's collabora- 
tion, Yeats was able to give his dream the form he 
desired, "the country speech" which he lacked being 
supplied out of her experience of the Galway peasantry. 

The play follows closely the vision of the poet, relat- 
ing how Peter and Bridget Gillane have prepared for 



WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS 65 

the wedding of their son, Michael, which is to take 
place on the morrow. A stranger enters the cottage in 
the midst of these preparations, an old woman, worn 
out with much wandering, and craving hospitality. 
She has been driven out on to the roads of the world by 
"too many strangers in the house", and the loss of her 
"four beautiful green fields", and in crooning song she 
tells of the great events in her history. Her story 
exercises a strange fascination upon Michael, who hears 
of the great men who have died for Cathleen, and longs 
to serve her. The old woman warns him : 

It is a hard service they take that help me, many 
that are red-cheeked now will be pale-cheeked ; many 
that have been free to walk the hills and the bogs and 
the rushes, will be sent to walk hard streets in far 
countries ; many a good plan will be broken ; many 
that have gathered money will not stay to spend it; 
many a child wdll be born and there will be no father at 
its christening to give it a name. They that had red 
cheeks will have pale cheeks for my sake ; and for all 
that, they will think they are well paid. 

Cathleen goes out singing, and a few moments later 
the arrival of the French ships in Killala Bay is an- 
nounced. Michael Gillane, forgetting his w^edding 
and the ties of friends, follows her, having resolved in 
his turn to give up all in the service of nationality. 
The spirit of Ireland is revitalized by such sacrifices 
as these, for as the curtain falls, we hear no longer of 
an old woman; Cathleen ni Houlihan has become "a 
young girl" with "the walk of a queen." 

The poignancy of this little tragedy never fails to 



66 THE CONTEMPOKAEY DEAMA OF IRELAND 

touch an Irish audience, and the play enjoys the dis- 
tinction of being the only work of Yeats which is more 
effective in the theatre than in the printed book. Its 
appeal was greatly enhanced, on the occasion of the first 
performance, by the presence of Miss Maude Gonne 
in the title part. Her personality lent a particular 
significance to this poetization of a political history with 
which she was so intimately and passionately associated. 
Yeats has placed on record a touching tribute to this 
interpretation of his thought: "Miss Maude Gonne 
played very finely, and her great height made Cathleen 
seem a divine being fallen into our mortal infirmity." 
" It was a fine thing," he wrote in Samhain after the per- 
formance, " for so beautiful a woman to consent to play 
my poor old Cathleen, and she played with nobility and 
tragic power." He contrasts her acting and that of her 
successors in the role with the unfortunate innovations 
of certain actresses on this side of the Atlantic. " The 
part has been twice played in America by women who 
insisted on keeping their young faces, and one of these, 
when she came to the door, dropped her cloak, as I have 
been told, and showed a white satin dress embroidered 
with shamrocks!" For the information of those in- 
terested he adds : " The most beautiful woman of her 
time, when she played my Cathleen, 'made up' centuries 
old, and never should the part be played but with a 
like sincerity." 

Cathleen ni Houlihan, not being a drama of heroic 
legend like the Deirdre of A. E. which preceded it, was 
therefore the earliest occasion for the display of those 
histrionic qualities which the Fays were fostering and 



WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS 67 

developing in their dramatic company. Here, for the 
first time, was an opportunity to interpret a play in the 
"folk-manner", later so celebrated amongst the 
achievements of the Irish Players. Yeats has testified 
that in the Countess Cathleen the way " of quiet move- 
ment and careful speech, which has given our players 
some little fame, first showed itself." And he concludes 
his commentary : " I cannot imagine this play, or any 
folk play of our school, acted by players with no knowl- 
edge of the peasant, and of the awkwardness and 
stillness of bodies that have followed the plough, or 
too lacking in humility to copy these things without 
convention or caricaturing." While the subsequent 
collaborations of W. B. Yeats and Lady Gregory have 
failed to please all but a few critics, this initial experi- 
ment was singularly happy in its results. If it has not 
proved so fortunate in its ultimate development, it 
furnished compensation by serving to crystallize the 
tradition of acting which is the invaluable gift of the 
Fays to the Dramatic Movement in Ireland. 

Perhaps the most remarkable instance of the collab- 
oration of Lady Gregory and Yeats, and its result, is 
furnished by Where there is Nothing. This work was 
originally published in 1903, as the first volume of Plays 
for an Irish Theatre, but curious to relate, it was pro- 
duced by the London Stage Society, and has never been 
part of the Abbey Theatre repertory. The play per- 
formed there in 1907 was a rehandling of Yeats's sub- 
ject by Lady Gregory under the title The Unicorn from 
the Stars. It is this latter version which Yeats has 
included in his Collected Works, the original play having 



68 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

been utterly discarded by him. In thus belying the 
series which it so inappropriately opened, Where there 
is Nothing naturally excites curiosity as to the reason of 
its appearance and subsequent abandonment. In his 
preface to The Unicorn from the Stars in 1908, the author 
hinted at some mystery, when he said that the earlier 
play has been written in a fortnight, in order to " save 
from a plagiarist a subject that seemed worth the 
keeping till greater knowledge of the stage made an 
adequate treatment possible." What was the precise 
scope of this allusion we do not know, but the speed 
and general circumstances of the play's construction 
sufficiently explain why it does not figure in later edi- 
tions of Yeats's works. 

Nevertheless, Where there is Nothing is very far from 
being an inconsiderable piece of hasty writing, and most 
readers will regret that he did not retain, and himself 
revise, this analysis of the revolt of the spirit against 
convention. Paul Ruttledge is a wealthy young land- 
owner who abandons his money and position to join a 
band of vagrant tinkers. His delicate constitution is 
not fitted for the life of these hardy wanderers, so he 
falls ill, after many curious experiences and adven- 
tures. In the monastery where he is nursed, the mystic 
qualities in his nature are awakened by the presence of 
religion. Ruttledge joins the order in the hope of 
finding that Nirvana where finite and infinite are 
merged, and the soul of man is at peace. The brethren 
are swayed by his transcendental preaching and share 
his desire for that condition " where there is nothing that 
is anything and nobody that is anybody", for "where 



WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS 69 

there is nothing, there is God." The frenzy of his ex- 
altation is contagious, and he finishes by bringing the 
rank and file of the order to a state bordering on reli- 
gious anarchism. The great sermon in which he 
advocates a mystical iconoclasm, whose destructive 
fury must not spare even the church itself, proves, 
however, too great a trial of the Superior's patience. 
Ruttledge and his disciples are ejected from the mon- 
astery, and finally fall victims to the fury of the peas- 
antry, who cannot appreciate these excesses of Chris- 
tian virtue. But the outcasts were already on the way 
of destruction because of their failure to agree to the 
intransigeant teaching of their leader. Ruttledge's 
mystic ecstasy at the thought of death was beyond the 
imagination of his companions, who opposed his passive 
resignation by attempts to compromise with reality, 
to the extent, at least,. of keeping life in their bodies 
by active work amongst the peasant population. 

With the single exception of his early story, John 
Sherman (1891), Yeats's only portrayal of contemporary 
manners is in the opening scenes of Where there is 
Nothing. There is a certain note of social protest and 
criticism, such as one finds in Wilde and Bernard Shaw, 
in the description of Paul Ruttledge's conventional sur- 
roundings, his commentary thereon, and the motives 
of his revolt. The first three acts have a basis of ac- 
tion in the affairs of everyday life which, apart from 
their intrinsic interest, add to the thoughtful fantasy 
of the two remaining acts, whose interest centers about 
the monastery and its scenes of spiritual delirium. In 
The Unicorn from the Stars, this contrasted appeal is 



70 THE CONTEMPOKARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

lacking. The interest of such a protagonist as Paul 
Ruttledge lay, to a great extent, in the circumstance 
of his aristocratically useless existence and his reactions 
against it. Lady Gregory's Martin Hearne, the coach- 
builder, is a figure of much less significance, and the 
satire of the earlier play finds no occasion for its exer- 
cise in her presentation of the unaltered theme. 
Hearne's frenzy is produced by a vision beheld while 
he is in a trance, induced by the flashing of light on a 
golden unicorn which he has made to ornament a car- 
riage. He too conceives a mission of destruction which 
is carried out by almost the same agencies as in the 
original story. Yeats had not only tacitly avowed his 
belief in the superiority of the later play by incorporat- 
ing it into his works, but he has recorded his estimate 
of Lady Gregory's reconstruction of the material in the 
following terms : 

She has enabled me to carry out an old thought 
for which my own knowledge is insufficient, and to com- 
mingle the ancient phantasies of poetry with the rough, 
vivid, ever-contemporaneous tumult of the roadside; 
to create for a moment a form that otherwise I could 
but dream of ... an art that prophesies though 
with worn and failing voice of the day when Quixote 
and Sancho Panza long estranged may once again 
go out gaily into the bleak air. 

We know that Where there is Nothing was written with 
the occasional help of two collaborators, of whom Lady 
Gregory was one, and to that extent she may, indeed, 
be responsible, as Yeats says, for the execution of his 
plan. But since that play, unlike the subsequent 



WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS 71 

version, was issued in his name only, we may assume it 
to have been essentially his own conception. It would 
seem, therefore, more just to apply the eulogy above 
quoted, to Where there is Nothing, for it fits that play 
a great deal better than it does The Unicorn from the 
Stars. There is almost nothing of Yeats in the latter, 
whereas the former, for all its hasty construction, is 
entirely worthy of the poet, whose own voice is so often 
heard in the rebellious utterances of Paul Ruttledge. 
In the rewriting, all the elements of intellectual and 
spiritual revolt, which dominated the incoherencies of 
the original five acts and made them acceptable, are 
lost in the not too well-ordered logic of a conventional 
three-act drama. The appeal is transferred from the 
depths to the surface of the spectator's mind. 

Apparently with some intention to duplicate the 
success of the little folk tragedy, Cathleen ni Houlihan, 
Yeats contributed, w^ith Lady Gregory's assistance, a 
folk comedy entitled The Pot of Broth to the second 
season of W. G. Fay's Dramatic Company. Although 
both these plays were produced in 1902, it was not until 
1904 that The Pot of Broth was published, when the 
author collected three one-act pieces for the second 
volume of Plays for an Irish Theatre. Like Where 
there is Nothing, it was not included in any edition of 
Yeats's collected works, after its appearance in that 
series, so that critics have frequently referred to it as 
having been disowned. But that is not strictly true, 
as The Pot of Broth was republished in separate form 
as late as 1911. However, this fact does not imply 
any superiority over the play which has really been 



72 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

denied by its author. The Pot of Broth is obviously 
the work of Lady Gregory rather than of Yeats, being 
nothing more than a trifling farce in the typical vein 
of her Seven Short Plays. A loquacious beggar suc- 
ceeds in wheedling a credulous peasant woman into 
giving him all the ingredients for the making of broth, 
while convincing her that the food has been miraculously 
extracted from a magic stone placed by him in the pot. 
The broad comedy of the dialogue constitutes the play, 
the forerunner of those numerous farces which the 
talent of the Irish Players made it possible for Lady 
Gregory to write. W. G. Fay's creation of the tramp's 
role was largely responsible for a success which has since 
been repeated in similar pieces, thanks to a like coopera- 
tion on the part of the actors. 

Before we come to the poetic plays of Irish legend, a 
point of transition is supplied by The Hour Glass, a 
morality, based upon a folk story which had attracted 
the attention of Yeats so far back as 1888, when he 
compiled his Fairy and Folk- Tales of the Irish Peasantry, 
It was first published and performed in 1903, as a prose 
play, but in spite of its having "converted a music- 
hall singer and kept him going to mass for six weeks ", 
the author was not satisfied until he had rewritten it 
partly in verse. In 1914, this new version formed part 
of the volume Responsibilities, to which a characteristic 
note was added by way of an appendix. Emphasizing 
his distaste for didacticism, the poet described himself 
as but "faintly pleased" by the conversion of the 
vaudeville artist, "so little responsibility does one 
feel for that mythological world." On the other hand. 



WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS 73 

he adds, "I was always ashamed when I saw friends of 
my own in the theatre.'* While noting the repudiation 
of moral, in favor of artistic, purpose, we shall respect 
the latter by considering Tlie Hour Glass in its final, if 
not yet widely familiar, form. 

The characters are the traditional personifications 
of the medieval morality : the Wise Man, representing 
science ; the Fool, intuition ; and the Pupils, the com- 
mon herd of small, docile souls enslaved to formulae. 
The Wise Man has devoted his years of learning to a 
denial of the Invisible world, but, in contradiction of his 
reason, his spirit has passed on to him premonitions 
of the phenomena he denies. \Mien his pupils come 
with a passage for him to elucidate and refute, in the 
light of the theories they have imbibed, the Wise Man 
is troubled. He has lost some of that positive assurance 
which gave weight to his negation of the soul, and soon 
his sensations of a life beyond materialize in the shape 
of an Angel, who warns him that death will come when 
the sands of the hour glass have run out. If he can 
find " but one soul that still believes that it shall never 
cease", he may find peace hereafter. In vain he 
searches for some trace of belief in those about him; 
the scientific rationalism of the Wise Man has extir- 
pated faith in those whom he implores to no purpose. 
Teigue the Fool alone has escaped the teaching whose 
results are so tragically evident to the mind of the 
doomed man. The latter kneels at the feet of Teigue 
and entreats him to acknowledge the beliefs which so 
often transpired from his instinctive babbling. The 
Fool is intent upon more trivial things, and not until 



74 THE CONTEMPORAKY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

it is too late does he come, ready to confess his faith. 
In the last agonizing moment, however, the Wise Man 
recognizes the futility of his quest ; he realizes that the 
better part is submission to the will of God, and that 
therein lies true wisdom. 

As now published. The Hour Glass is one of the most 
remarkable moralities of modern literature, so per- 
fectly has Yeats sensed the spirit of that form. When 
compared w^ith The Fool of the World, his superiority 
over Arthur Symons is evident ; when compared w^ith 
his own earlier version, the beauty of the revised work 
gains additional force. Not only is the form embel- 
lished by what he terms "the elaboration of verse", 
but structurally the fable is more convincing. Origi- 
nally the Wise Man was saved by the ingenuous confes- 
sion of the Fool, a verbal fidelity to the text of the folk 
story which did not carry the naive charm of the latter 
into the theatre. Now, however, instead of that 
*' platitude on the stage", of which Yeats complained, 
he has projected a more faithful image of his own 
thought into a theme which still preserves the simple 
dignity befitting its medieval setting. Rarely have the 
revisions of Yeats been so immeasurably to the advan- 
tage of his work as in this carefully rewoven fabric of 
words, whose art is concealed by the perfect sim- 
plicity of their arrangement. Only transposition and 
analysis reveal the technical purity of a style unlike that 
of any other of his plays in prose or verse. A limpid 
clarity of vision is coupled with a symmetry of language, 
which secures a maximum of poetic effect with a mini- 
mum of specific verbal ornamentation. 



WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS 75 



Plays of Gaelic Legend and History 

Of the five dramas whose material derives from the 
legendary lore of Gaelic Ireland, The Shadowy Waters 
is not only the earliest, but it was probably one of the 
first conceptions of the young poet. In his recent 
chapter of autobiography. Reveries over Childhood and 
Youth, Yeats tells of a boyish escapade, undertaken 
"to find what sea birds began to stir before dawn", 
which bears testimony to the priority of this play in 
his poetic meditations. He says : " It was for the 
poem that became fifteen years afterwards *The 
Shadowy Waters' that I wanted the birds' cries, and 
it had been full of observation had I been able to write 
it when I first planned it." Two versions were planned 
and rejected, however, before Yeats was satisfied to 
make his work public, and even then he was not con- 
tent until he had completely transformed it. 

The Shadowy Waters was first published in The 
North American Review, in May, 1900, and was issued 
with slight modifications in book form the same year. 
This beautiful poem, obviously conceived without 
much thought for the exigencies of dramatic produc- 
tion, was performed by the Irish National Theatre 
Society in 1904. Its stage success was slight, although 
its poetic qualities have preserved for it a paramount 
place in the affection of Yeats's admirers. He him- 
self declared that the 1904 performance of The Shadowy 
Waters was an "accident", due no doubt to his absence 



76 THE CONTEMPOKARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

in America. On his return he proceeded to rewrite 
the play in the form published in 1906, and subse- 
quently adopted for the Collected Edition of his works. 
The second, like the first published version, was in 
verse, but in spite of many — too many, some say — 
concessions to the demands of the theatre, a con- 
densed "acting version" was found necessary. The 
latter is so evidently a makeshift that we may expect 
the poet to return to the subject. A series of attempts 
may yet indicate Yeats's desire to endow the Irish stage 
with a worthy interpretation of a thought upon which 
his imagination has brooded since boyhood. 

Meanwhile we must content ourselves with the play 
which has received at least the measure of approval 
implied by its inclusion in the Collected Edition of 1908. 
The fundamental idea, so perfectly elaborated in the 
original poem, is here unchanged. Forgael, in quest of 
his ideal, has sailed the shadowy waters for three moons, 
his only guide the gray birds, voices of the ever-living. 
His crew rebel at this prolonged search in waste seas, 
where no chance of plunder falls to them, and ask 
Aibric to be their captain, in place of Forgael, whom 
they propose to kill. Aibric's loyalty to his friend 
forbids his joining in their plot, but even his faith is 
strained by the apparent fruitlessness of Forgael's 
cruise. He confesses his doubts to the latter, who is 
thereby afforded an opportunity to voice the idealism 
of the poet's dream. He describes the impulse which 
has led him to seek the w^oman whose perfect love shall 
bring them to "a place in the world's core where passion 
grows to be a changeless thing." While Forgael ex- 



WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS 77 

pounds his belief against Aibric's skepticism, his desire 
not to "linger wretchedly among substantial things", 
another ship is sighted. The sailors are overjoyed at 
the prospect of booty, and soon the strange vessel and 
its occupants are in their power. Amongst their 
prisoners is Queen Dectora, who demands satisfaction 
from those who have just slain her husband. 

Forgael, whose thoughts are full of his ideal, is 
disappointed that fate should thus bring him but a 
mortal woman. His mysterious speech baffles and en- 
rages Dectora, who calls upon the sailors to kill him, 
offering an immediate return home as their reward. 
But all are cast into spell by the magic breathings of 
Forgael's harp, and w^hen Dectora comes to herself, she 
is conscious of a love for him whose advances she repulsed. 
Forgael's divine ecstasy, however, is still incompre- 
hensible to her, and she now pleads that they return 
together. He cannot disregard the voices of his vision, 
urging him onward, and is resolved to abandon Dectora 
to Aibric, rather than forget the promise of ideal happi- 
ness. In a flash the woman senses the nobility of his 
purpose, and cutting the rope connecting the two 
galleys, allows the others to depart. 

Dragon that loved the world and held us to it. 

You are broken, you are broken. The world drifts 

away. 
And I am left alone with my beloved, 
Who cannot put me from his sight forever. 

Thus the two spirits are united in the timeless region 
of immortality. 



78 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

For all the changes The Shadowy Waters has under- 
gone, the drama is essentially symbolical, and belongs 
definitely to the period of its first publication. What- 
ever that youthful poem may have been, for which 
Yeats studied the cries of the sea birds before dawn, 
its ultimate realization is far removed from such pre- 
cision as that study implied. The symbolist poet of 
The Wind Among the Reeds, the mystic dreamer of The 
Secret Rose, is the author of this play, whose writing 
coincided with those volumes of his lyric maturity. 
It is informed by the same mood, and, in the 1900 ver- 
sion, it was a poem whose atmosphere was preserved 
by a perfect coincidence of thought and language. 
Hence the superiority of that first edition over those 
later experiments in dramatization, where effectiveness 
is so often substituted for original beauty. 

While The Shadowy Waters is woven loosely out of 
legendary elements, Edain, the Celtic Aphrodite, and 
iEngus, the god of love, being among the protagonists, 
it was a play of symbolism rather than legend. It was 
followed, on the other hand, by a little tragedy taken 
directly from classic Gaelic literature. On Bailees Strand. 
As far back as 1892 Yeats had treated the theme of this 
play in a poem entitled The Death of Cuchullin, which 
has since been reprinted many times (with the inevi- 
table variations in the spelling of Cuchulain's name !) 
but with few alterations in the text. Written in a 
harmonious arrangement of prose and verse. On Bailees 
Strand develops the familiar story of the tragic duel 
between Aoife's son, Finmol, and his unknown father, 
Cuchulain. In the early poem the father learns the 



WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS 79 

identity of his adversary from the lips of the latter as 
he falls mortally wounded. A greater poignancy is 
achieved in the play by the introduction of the Blind 
Man and the Fool, whose comments, while the struggle 
is in progress, indicate them as possessing the knowl- 
edge denied to Cuchulain. These two serve throughout 
in the capacity of a Greek chorus, and through their 
indifferent chatter the father learns that he has slain 
his own child. He rushes out to die himself, battling 
with the waves, while the unwitting causes of his fatal 
enlightenment continue in their preoccupation with 
trivial things. The tragedy is one to which Yeats has 
given the imprint of his own personality, not only in 
the lovely lines of his verse^ but in the characteristic 
role assigned to the crafty simpletons who are the 
mouthpieces of fate. Since its revision, after the 
opening performance of the Abbey Theatre, On Bailees 
Strand has become one of the author's most finished 
contributions to that repertory. 

On its publication in the volumes of Plays for an Irish 
Theatre in 1904, it was accompanied by The King's 
Threshold, which had been produced in Dublin by the 
brothers Fay before the Players had secured a regular 
theatre. The plot is borrowed from a middle-Irish story 
of the demands of the poets at the court of King Guaire 
of Gort. Officials and ecclesiastics have combined to 
oust Seanchan, the poet, from the King's table, an af- 
front which he resolves to avenge by starving on the 
steps of the palace ; an old custom has it 

. . . that if a man 

Be wronged, or think that he is wronged, and starve 



80 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

Upon another's threshold till he die, 
The common people, for all time to come, 
Will raise a heavy cry against that threshold, 
Even though it be the King's. 

The action, naturally, is constituted by the efforts of 
various people to dissuade the poet from his intention, 
but all fail to influence him, until finally the King is 
moved to make amends. He offers his own crown to 
Seanchan, who receives it only to return it to him whose 
kingship is demonstrably dependent upon the good 
will of the poets. Having vindicated his race, he is 
satisfied to renounce the mere symbol of royalty. 

A personal interest attaches to TJie King's Threshold 
by reason of its having come at a time when hyper- 
sensitive patriotism was beginning its campaign against 
Synge, whose Shadow of the Glen had just excited the 
indignation of the political moralists. As Synge's 
sponsor, and because of his own offenses, Yeats's claims 
on behalf of art were being challenged. Whether 
intentionally or not, he here provided his critics with 
an answer which left no doubt as to his view of the re- 
lation that should exist between the poet and his public. 
A bitter note to a later edition of the play would seem 
to imply a deliberate purpose in its production, "when 
our Society was beginning its fight for the recognition 
of pure art in a community, of which one half is hired 
in the practical affairs of life, and the other half in 
politics and propagandist patriotism." 

Almost every Irish poet has been drawn to the classi- 
cal tragedy of Celtic epic history, the love-story of 
Deirdre and Naisi ; A. E. wrote his prose poem upon 



WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS 81 

the subject for the Fays, when they came forward to 
take the place of the Irish Literary Theatre, and four 
years later, in 1906, Yeats's version of the theme was 
given to the public, Frank Fay again playing the prin- 
cipal male part. A like period was to elapse before the 
third, and perhaps the greatest, of these modern dram- 
atizations was made, — J. M. Synge's posthumous 
Deirdre of the Sorrows. Unlike A. E. and Synge, Yeats 
did not include the whole dramatic story, which tells of 
the lovers' flight to Alba, their sojourn, and the series of 
incidents which induced in Naisi the longing and finally 
the resolve to return home. He chose the last act of 
the tragedy, and made the arrival of Deirdre and Naisi 
at the palace of Conchubar his point of departure. 
While A. E.'s play presupposes an intimate acquaint- 
ance with the entire epic of the House of Usna, of which 
the Deirdre story is a part, Yeats has concentrated the 
tragic essence of the denouement into a single act of 
great intensity. 

The scene opens with a chorus of musicians, and Fer- 
gus as interlocutor. The latter has been instrumental 
in bringing Naisi and Deirdre to Conchubar, having 
guaranteed the good intentions of the King, whose 
revenge they suspect is lurking behind the invitation. 
The conversations of the musicians and Conchubar 
enable us to learn the events which have preceded the 
home-coming of the lovers, and the rapid narrative of 
the chorus brings about the mood of tension and ex- 
pectancy necessary to the understanding of the play. 
We are prepared also, by the forebodings of the chorus, 
for the treachery of Conchubar, who has made use of 



82 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

Fergus's friendship for Naisi to lure the latter into his 
power. Dark, sinister figures move furtively in the 
background, the air is filled with suspicion and hate, 
as innumerable insignificant happenings take on a 
dread significance in the light of what we hear of Con- 
chubar. The doom of Naisi is being encompassed, the 
hired ruffians of the King lurk near to do his bidding, 
and only the renunciation of her lover by Deirdre can 
save him. She is willing to sacrifice herself, but Naisi 
forbids her and is murdered by Conchubar's servants. 
Then Deirdre, in a supreme moment of passion, feigns 
affection for the old King, who desires her, in order 
that she may be allowed to approach the dead body of 
Naisi. She goes behind the curtain where he lies and 
kills herself that she may be with him in death. 

The inherent passion and tragedy in this great " sor- 
row of story-telling '^ as the Gaelic poets described it, 
are of themselves sufficient to give that grip and poign- 
ancy whose absence has been noted as a defect of the 
Yeatsian drama. Such human qualities as Yeats 's 
Deirdre contains are not of his own contribution so much 
as a natural element in the epic literature of Gaelic 
Ireland. He resembles A. E. in his treatment of the 
subject, in so far as both have conceived the protag- 
onists as figures of a dream rather than of reality. 
Technically, however, this work shows an advance 
upon the earlier poetic plays of Yeats. With a crisis 
in the affairs of Deirdre and Naisi as its starting point, 
it escapes that vague nervelessness which renders so 
much of the poet's writing ineffective on the stage. 
Were it not for the unusual possibilities of the theme, so 



WILLIAM BUTLEE YEATS 83 

finely realized by Synge, higher praise might be given 
to Yeats's version. As it is, the beauties of setting and 
language are such as to place Deirdre amongst the finest 
of the poet's creations. 

In 1910 Yeats published a rewritten version of The 
Golden Helmet, which had been produced at the Abbey 
Theatre, Dublin, in 1908. In the revision the title was 
altered, becoming The Green Helmet, while a very novel 
experiment in the form was the use of ballad meter, 
instead of the original prose. This "heroic farce'*, 
as the author termed it, should serve as an introduction 
to the earlier play. On Bailees Strand. Its basis is the 
old story, known as The Feast of Bricriu, which Lady 
Gregory has included in her Cuchulain of Muirthemne. 
The Red Man, a spirit from the sea, has put the shame 
of cowardice upon Conall and Laegaire, by the exercise 
of his supernatural powers. The great hero Cuchulain, 
because of his innate valor and traditional courage, is 
alone capable of resisting the arts of the Red Man. 
He thereby gains the golden helmet as his reward, 
a gift which endows him with that heroic supremacy 
whose manifestations became the material of Gaelic 
epic. 

The ancient bards conceived these figures as divine 
or semi-divine beings, whose virtue and nobility set 
them above humanity. In The Green Helmet we find 
a modern poet attempting, for the first time, to divest 
the heroes of the bardic imagination of their superhuman 
attributes. Humor is interjected into an atmosphere 
whose associations are of a very different character; 
and gentle satire is the result, — for example, the 



84 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

jealous clash of ambitions, when the Red Man leaves the 
golden helmet that it may be the cause of dissension 
among the warriors. The familiar spirit of faction 
which, as one of our poets has remarked, makes every 
Irishman "a movement", is pleasantly symbolized by 
the quarrel between Emer, Cuchulain's wife, Laeg, 
his charioteer, and the women folk of Conal and 
Laegaire. Perhaps a less fortunate innovation was 
the use of ballad meter. But as an experiment in 
the dramatization of the bardic material, this "heroic 
farce" has a value of its own. 

The announcement of a new play by W. B. Yeats, 
The Player Queen, to be produced shortly in Dublin, 
reminds us that for nearly ten years now his dramatic 
writing has been in the nature of the revision. He has 
been striving incessantly to reconcile his art as a poet 
with the exigencies of the stage, and as we have seen, 
hardly a play of his has been allowed to stand as first 
performed and published. There can be no doubt of 
his increased technical skill in surmounting the difii- 
culties which stand in the way of success for such work 
as his, when transferred to the theatre. Critics who re- 
gret the absorption of the poet by the dramatist profess 
to see in every advantage of the latter some loss to the 
former. They hold, in short, that the plays of Yeats 
become dramatically effective at the expense of poetry. 
While this may be true in a sense, the fact is of minor 
importance. Poetic drama must combine, as its name 
implies, the maximum of poetical effect with a maxi- 
mum of dramatic significance, and the proportions of 
both must be balanced. It is useless, therefore, to 



WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS 85 

complain that Yeats has, with increasing experience, 
been obHged to sacrifice something of his wealth of poetic 
beauty in order to secure a more dramatic effect. His 
early plays were so richly endowed with the former that 
harmony could be obtained only by the substitution 
of those qualities which he lacked. As he revises 
them they are less beautiful as poems, but more remark- 
able as poetic dramas. 

The Irish Theatre owes so much to Yeats that we have 
some difficulty in assenting to the theory which con- 
demns as fruitless his activities in that field. Not 
that the dramatists of the Revival have been his liter- 
ary disciples, for the fact is Yeats is an isolated figure 
in the repertory of the Abbey Theatre. While the 
speaking of verse and the plastic beauty of dramatic 
art have interested him personally, the Theatre has be- 
come associated almost exclusively with realistic folk 
drama, and prose fantasies in the manner of Lord 
Dunsany. Gratitude for his share in fostering the re- 
vival must, therefore, be explained on more general 
grounds. His long and conscientious propaganda on 
behalf of artistic freedom, his complete devotion to the 
cause of national drama, resulting in the foundation of 
an institution unique in the English-speaking world — 
these are the realities which must prevent his contem- 
poraries and successors from bewailing the potential loss 
to poetry involved by the deflection of his talents. We 
have noticed how the publication of The Wind Among 
the Reeds, on the eve of the Dramatic Movement, marked 
the limit of the poet's progress in the direction he had 
taken. For all his preoccupation with the drama, 



86 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

Yeats has since found time for the expression of what- 
ever lyric emotion has come to him. Some of his 
finest verse will be found in the pages of those little 
books which have been issued regularly from the Dun 
Emer and Cuala Press during recent years. Let us 
not be deceived by the too insistent regrets of those 
who ignore these later lyrics in the pleasing contempla- 
tion of what might have been. 

When publishing in 1906 his first collection of poems 
since The Wind Among the Reeds, Yeats made a con- 
fession of literary faith, which remains, after all, the 
most conclusive commentary upon his work as a dram- 
atist : 

Some of my friends, and it is always for a few friends 
one writes, do not understand why I have not been 
content with lyric writing. But one can only do what 
one wants to do, and to me drama . . . has been the 
search for more of manful energy, more of cheerful 
acceptance of whatever arise out of the logic of events, 
and for clean outline, instead of those outlines of lyric 
poetry that are blessed with desire and vague regret. 

He has here indicated not only the limitations which 
he felt had been imposed upon him by the development 
of his lyricism, but also the intention of his experiments 
in the theatre. If the plays of W. B. Yeats be com- 
pared with those of his contemporaries in England, 
France, Germany, or Italy, it will be found that he has 
earned his title to rank with the first of the poetic 
dramatists of to-day. The poetry of contemporary 
English literature in this respect is so lamentable that 
Ireland might well be content if Yeats were the only 



WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS 87 

playwright of distinction associated with the National 
Theatre. The fact that his reputation has not been a 
matter of passing enthusiasm, as in the case of Stephen 
Philhps, that his work has found an audience in- 
creasingly capable of enjoying good drama in prose and 
verse, may be taken as doubly significant. Not only 
has his personal contribution to the Theatre been val- 
uable, but his influence has created conditions pro- 
pitious to the realization of his wider purpose. The 
play that is literature has found, not a small coterie 
but a pubhc. 



CHAPTER V 

The Impulse to Folk Drama: J. M. Synge and 
Padraic Colum 



Writing and Environment 

Whatever formative influence the work of W. B. 
Yeats might have had upon the younger dramatists 
of the Irish Theatre, had he continued to be the 
dominating literary personahty of the movement, 
the fact now remains that the Irish drama has devel- 
oped along very different lines. Here and there, as 
we shall see, one finds a play, or an isolated playwright 
like Lord Dunsany, whose affinity with the poetic 
drama conceived by Yeats is undeniable. But, in 
the main, the later dramatists derive from the tradi- 
tion created by J. M. Synge and Padraic Colum. Both 
these writers were introduced to the public in 1903, 
during the first season of the newly constituted Irish 
National Theatre Society. Although Colum had been 
associated with the embryonic organization of the 
brothers Fay, from which the Society sprang, his real 
debut may be said to have coincided with that of J. M. 

88 



THE IMPULSE TO FOLK DRAMA 89 

Synge. The latter, having achieved in a few years 
the fame which comes to others in a Hfetime, occupied 
that position of prominence in the Dramatist Revival 
for which Yeats seemed destined. His influence, 
therefore, dominated the subsequent evolution of Irish 
drama. 

Folk realism, however, while producing dramatic 
literature of a texture most unlike the poetic woof of 
Yeats's reveries, must not be regarded as a departure 
from the ideals he had enunciated. The plays which 
Yeats desired for the national stage should tell the 
people of their own life, he postulated, "or of that life 
of poetry where every man can see his own image, 
because there alone does human nature escape from 
arbitrary conditions." These words, written in antici- 
pation of actual events, were clearly an invitation to 
the exponents of peasant drama, and Yeats's champion- 
ship of Synge subsequently demonstrated how genuine 
was his wish to foster such art as is here predicted. 
When he wrote thus in 1902 he must have been aware 
of the quality of Synge's genius, which he had but 
recently discovered, but it is doubtful if he could have 
seen enough of the new dramatist's work to foretell 
the destiny of the Irish Theatre. Yeats's plea may be 
regarded, then, as a perfectly general statement of 
a literary ideal, made without special reference to 
Synge. It is all the more remarkable that a writer 
should come into the movement equipped with every 
advantage for the task of imposing the folk drama as 
a powerful medium of national expression, and an 
instrument of poetic and dramatic potency. The 



90 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

classic genius of J. M. Synge conferred a prestige upon 
the peasant play which seemed to justify the faith of 
Yeats in the possibilities of a drama other than that 
conceived by Edward Marty n. In another chapter 
we shall have occasion to observe how the latter's 
skepticism was also to be justified. For the present 
it is enough to say that the Irish National Theatre 
began its official career by making known the two most 
original folk dramatists of our time. 

Innumerable studies in periodical and book form 
have so familiarized the public with the life and works 
of J. M. Synge that little remains to be said. He was 
born near Dublin in 1871, and studied at Dublin 
University, to whose magazine Kottabos he contributed 
his earliest literary effort, a sonnet published in 1893. 
The same year he left college and began those Wander- 
jahre in France, Germany, and Italy which terminated 
about 1898, when he made the acquaintance of W. B. 
Yeats in Paris. The latter at once recognized the un- 
usual genius of the man, and convinced him that he 
was wasting his talents in occasional journalism and 
hack work of an unimportant character. Synge was 
writing a little in French and English, travel sketches 
and criticisms of French literature, but Yeats urged 
him to return to Ireland and to seek his material 
in the world of men, not of books. He went for six 
weeks to the Aran Islands, and began to write the book 
which, although it preceded his plays, was not published 
until 1907, after much difficulty in finding a publisher. 
This volume, The Aran Islands, was the fruit of many 
prolonged sojourns among the islanders, and is a 



THE IMPULSE TO FOLK DRAMA 91 

document of great value to all students of Synge*s 
work. 

Once he had sensed the potentialities of his own 
country, Synge's visits to the continent of Europe 
became fewer. His years of vagabondage had given 
him just the preliminary training necessary to realize 
the opportunities offered by the study of elemental 
human activities in the last stronghold of our primitive 
national life. In the mountains of Wicklow and on 
those Western islands, Synge found the material of 
his art. His sympathies heightened by contact with 
the most varied phases of continental existence, his 
ears sharpened by attention to the shades and sounds 
of several European languages, he was particularly 
fitted to note the manifestations of peasant life in the 
idiom of the people. Unlike so many of his Irish con- 
temporaries, he brought to the study of local conditions 
a mind well stored with foreign impressions, familiar 
with European culture, yet fundamentally colored by 
national traditions which his knowledge of Gaelic had 
preserved intact. Encouraged by Yeats, intensely 
moved by the spectacle of a primitive civilization un- 
spoiled by industrialism, Synge consecrated his brief 
career to peasant Ireland. In The Aran Islands^ the 
first of his notebooks, and in the posthumous volume, 
In Wicklow, West Kerry and Connemara (1910), will be 
found the rich store of observation and humanity 
which his years in Ireland brought to him. Out of 
this material were extracted the plays which have 
now made his name famous in several continents. 

There is little of importance in the life of Synge to 



92 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

be related in connection with his work for the Irish 
Theatre. He was, as all who knew him have re- 
corded, "a drifting, silent mam'', averse to discussion, 
aloof from the controversies and activities of literature 
in the making. It was an irony of fate that he pre- 
cisely should become the center of the most violent 
altercations in the field of politics and morality, and 
finally be the rallying point for impassioned laudation 
and depreciation of a literary genre. Biographically 
the most remarkable feature of Synge's career was its 
brevity. In the six years which elapsed between 1903, 
when In the Shadow of the Glen was produced, to 1909, 
when he died, he rose from absolute obscurity to world 
fame, and provided us with the six plays upon which 
his reputation must rest. His posthumously published 
Poems and Translations (1909) are of interest, like 
his notebooks, because of the insight they afford into 
the application of his theories. Just as one may study 
his sketches of life in the west of Ireland for the genesis 
of his dramatic art, so one reads his versions of Villon 
and Petrarch for their revelation of the poetic qualities 
of Anglo-Irish idiom. Neither would in themselves 
constitute a claim to public attention comparable to 
that rightly accorded to his dramatic writings. 



The Plays of J, M. Synge 

In justice to the enemies of Synge it must be said 
that from the beginning they left him under no illusions 
as to the fate his plays would experience at their hands. 



THE IMPULSE TO FOLK DRAMA 93 

In the Shadow of the Glen, which marked his entrance 
upon the stage of the National Theatre in 1903, was 
greeted at once in the fashion which afterwards devel- 
oped into the "Playboy riots." Although but a 
variation upon a legend familiar to all folklore, this 
little one-act play was repudiated by the moral patriots 
as a hideous slander upon Irish womanhood. The 
fable tells how an old farmer, Dan Burke, feigns death 
in order to test the fidelity of his young wife, Nora. 
As he lies stretched on his deathbed, he overhears the 
conversation of Nora and a tramp whom she has ad- 
mitted, his suspicions are aroused, and when his wife 
goes out to bring in a neighbor in order to arrange for 
the burial, he jumps up, to the intense horror and fear 
of the tramp. Fortified with a drink of whisky, — 
and his stick, — Dan resumes his position in the bed 
and awaits the confirmation of his suspicions. Nora 
returns with her friend, Michael Dara, and over a cup 
of tea the pair discuss their marriage plans, and make 
the most uncomplimentary allusions to the supposedly 
dead husband. Dan's emotions are too strong for 
him, so, with a violent sneeze, he awakes from the dead, 
and drives his wife from the house, threatening both 
her and Michael with his stick. The latter is a coward, 
whose sole thought is to protect himself, his interest in 
Nora having evaporated once it was evident she would 
bring him no money. The tramp, however, willingly 
accompanies Nora in her quest for the liberty of the 
roads which he knows and loves so well. As they go 
out of the house, the curtain falls on Dan and Michael 
in complete harmony over a glass of whisky. 



94 THE CONTEMPOEARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

The play is a typically Syngesque combination of 
realism and symbolism. The legendary character of 
the plot is obvious, but the specific occasion of Synge's 
inspiration was undoubtedly a story told to him by 
Pat Dirane and recounted in The Aran Islands, though 
curiously enough, Pat's denouement of murder and adul- 
tery is even more unfavorable to the illusions of Synge's 
critics. Similarly one may read into the play a criti- 
cism of the dowry system of loveless marriages, shared 
by Ireland with all peasant communities. Yet Nora 
is a figure transcending all such realistic interpretation. 
She is a symbol of a vigorous young woman mated, 
for reasons of property, with an old man, "wheezing, 
the like of a sick sheep.'' As she sees her lonely life 
passing away from her in the solitude of the isolated 
valley, lost in the mists from the hills, she is impelled 
to seek freedom and adventure. She escapes from the 
desolation of " hearing nothing but the wind crying out 
in the bits of broken trees left from the great storm, 
and the streams roaring with the rain." 

Synge's next work was of very dissimilar character, 
although written about the same time as In the Shadow 
of the Glen. Unlike any other of his plays, except 
Deirdre, the poignant little tragedy. Riders to the Sea, 
met with the approval of all his critics. At least, 
none but a few minor technical objections have been 
raised against it. It was produced in 1904, and the 
following year the two one-act plays were issued in 
book form, the author's first contribution to permanent 
literature. Riders to the Sea, like its predecessor, had 
its roots in certain experiences recorded in The Aran 



THE IMPULSE TO FOLK DRAMA 95 

Islands, but not in any specific incident reported by the 
author. It might be said to concentrate within a 
small space the essential spirit of that work, which is, 
at bottom, a narrative of the constant struggle of the 
islanders against their relentless enemy, the sea. The 
womanhood of the Islands speaks through the tragic 
figure of old Maurya, who has lost her husband and 
four sons by drowning. When the scene opens she 
is waiting for news of her fifth son, Michael, who is 
missing, and whose fate is revealed by a young priest 
who brings portions of clothing, found on a drowned 
man, for Maurya's daughters to identify. They 
recognize their brother's clothes and conceal them 
from the mother, but try to prevent the last son, Bart- 
ley, from setting out in the storm to make the dangerous 
crossing to the mainland. Bartley refuses to be dis- 
suaded, and rides off on his horse to the sea, without a 
fear for his fate. The inevitability of Greek tragedy 
w^eighs upon the scene, and numerous apparently trifling 
incidents emphasize the approaching doom of the son, 
whose mother sees in vision the realization of her fore- 
bodings. The old woman sings the caoin, or death- 
lament, of her lost sons, the wailing is taken up by 
the others, and when the dead body of Bartley is carried 
in, the cry of pain rises to passionate intensity, only 
to die away in a key of resignation even more terribly 
sad. "There isn't anything more the sea can do to 
me" is the submissive comment of Maurya. 

There are few more flawless tragedies than this 
little piece, with its subtle blending of diverse elements, 
from the realism of the cottage interior, displaying an 



96 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

intimate knowledge of Aran customs, to the symphonic 
quality of the appeal to the ear in the phrasing of the 
speeches and the wonderful diapason of the caoin. 
Describing a burial in one of his notebooks, Synge refers 
to this lament as the cry of pain in which "the inner 
consciousness of the people seems to lay itself bare 
for an instant, and to reveal the mood of beings who 
feel their isolation in the face of a universe that wars 
upon them with wind and seas." Riders to the Sea 
palpitates with that wail of despair, whose rise and fall 
constitute the movement of the tragedy. There is 
little uncertainty as to the fate of Bartley, for we know 
at once that he has gone to join his brothers in death, 
but the tension is one of emotional suspense prepared 
with a skill surpassing the suggestive action of Maeter- 
linck's Interior. Synge hints at the approach of death 
by the interplay of seemingly irrelevant details, but 
their effectiveness is tremendously increased by the 
fact that each trifle contributes something to the 
naturalism of the mise-en-scene. There is not an 
action or a word but is doubly significant, first as part 
of the picture of manners, and secondly as a portent 
of the tragedy. The dramatist's hold on life is too 
profound to permit of his exercising mere literary 
ingenuity in the manipulation of symbols. 

Before essaying his strength in the three acts of The 
Well of the Saints, Synge wrote a two-act comedy. The 
Tinker's Wedding, which belongs to the period of the 
two plays we have examined, although it was not 
pubHshed until 1907. Mr. John Masefield is authority 
for the statement that this was Synge's first attempt 



THE IMPULSE TO FOLK DRAMA 97 

at dramatic writing, and its relative inferiority is evi- 
dence of that fact. The plot of The Tinker's Wedding 
is an elaboration of the anecdote, related in the author's 
notes on Wicklow, which told how two tinkers tried 
to have a priest bless their union, in return for a 
gallon can and a small sum of money, and how they 
afterwards pretended that the can had been damaged 
overnight by a kick from their ass. Synge might 
well have found in this, or his other Wicklow expe- 
riences, the substance of a short farce or a really good 
comedy, but the theme is not enough for the two acts 
of TJie Tinker's Wedding. The play follows too faith- 
fully the main lines of the original story. 

Sarah Casey and her companion, Michael Byrne, 
persuade the priest to marry them for " a bit of gold and 
a tin can." The first act is concerned with the ludi- 
crous conversation between the priest and the tinkers, 
whose blandishments overcome his scruples against 
countenancing the flagrant irregularity of their lives 
and morals. But, as the scene closes, we see Michael's 
old mother going off with the tin can in search of re- 
freshment, oblivious to its destined use in part payment 
of the marriage fee. When the curtain rises again, it 
is to show us the tinker family engaged in preparations 
for the consecration of their union, an event which 
excites old Mary Byrne to derision, and then to fear, 
when she finds that the can she exchanged for porter 
was to play so important a part. The astonishment 
of the prospective bride, when three empty bottles 
fall out of the packet in which the can had been wrapped 
is surpassed by the indignation of the priest. He re- 



98 THE CONTEMPOKARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

fuses to marry the couple for less than was stipulated, 
and in a moment the three tinkers are against him — 
Michael seizes and gags him, ties him up in a sack, and 
threatens to throw him into the bog-hole; only by 
promising not to inform the police does the priest even- 
tually secure his freedom. With a Latin malediction 
he terrifies his assailants, who run away, leaving him 
master of the situation. 

Seeing that such an inoffensive play as In the Shadow 
of the Glen had aroused popular indignation, it is not 
surprising that The Tinker's Wedding should not yet 
have faced criticism in the Irish Theatre. The play 
has never been performed in Ireland, and when pro- 
duced in London, shortly after the author's death, it 
was unfavorably received. Synge was accused of 
atheism and anti-clericalism by those who condemned 
the printed play, but the charge is untrue. He was 
indulging rather that characteristic penchant for brutal, 
sardonic humor, for which the irreverences of the 
vagabond life of the roads supplied rich material. 
His interest in tramps and outlaws may be traced to 
his peculiar sense of humor whose satisfaction could 
not be found in the orthodox existence of more sophis- 
ticated people. The note of The Playboy of the Western 
World is easily perceptible in this first work for the 
stage. Only the technical weaknesses of The Tinker's 
Wedding differentiate it from Synge's later work. 

As it happened, the dramatist had already revealed 
the full quality of his talent when The Tinker's Wedding 
was published. A few months earlier in the same year, 
1907, The Playboy of the Western World had been issued 



THE IMPULSE TO FOLK DRAMA 99 

in book form, almost immediately after its riotous pro- 
duction at the Abbey Theatre. However, chronology 
demands that we should consider Synge's first three- 
act drama. The Well of the Saints, before giving our 
attention to his masterpiece. It was one of the earliest 
plays performed at the newly-opened Abbey Theatre 
in 1905, and was published at the same time as the 
first volume of that series to which the theatre gave its 
name. Those who possess the fifteen issues of the 
"Abbey Theatre Series'* have in a convenient and 
uniform edition the best that the Dramatic Revival 
has produced. In The Well of the Saints, his fourth 
play, Synge definitely proclaimed his control of the 
dramatic medium by the ease with which he aban- 
doned the one-act for the three-act form, the tv/o acts 
of The Tinker's Wedding having served to mark the 
transition. 

Doubtless because of the absence of any hint of 
this play in the usual place, Synge's notebooks, much 
misplaced energy has been expended in tracing it to 
various sources, Chaucer and Maeterlinck, Zola and 
Huysmans, Georges Clemenceau and Lord Lytton. 
As will be seen, the theme is so universal in its appeal, 
and so natural, that no such erudition is required to 
explain Synge's choice. Martin and Mary Doul are 
two old beggars, ugly and worn with hardships, whose 
blindness has made them as unconscious of their own 
defects as they are sensitive to the beauties of their 
own world of imagination and intuition. To the vil- 
lage where they sit comes a saint who can work miracles 
by means of the water from a holy well. He anoints 



100 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

the eyes of the blind couple, whose sight is restored, 
with disastrous consequences to themselves and their 
neighbors. Gone are their illusions respecting their 
own persons, and instead we find them gifted with a 
dreadful candor which obliges them to utter all the 
unpleasant truths revealed by their clear-seeing eyes. 
Their friends are insulted, and they themselves are 
miserable at being deprived of those beautiful dreams 
with which blindness enabled them to transfigure 
material facts. They no longer hear "the birds and 
bees humming in every weed of the ditch, the swift 
flying things racing in the air." In the end, however, 
their eyes are darkened once more, and they rejoice 
in the imaginative existence of old. When the saint, 
on his return, tries to cure them again, Martin Doul 
knocks the holy water out of the friar's hand. 

The Well of the Saints is the only occasion in Synge's 
career where he appears to express the traditional re- 
volt of the Celtic mind against the despotism of fact. 
The refusal of the blind beggars to accept reality in 
place of the world of their dreams is an almost Yeats- 
ian treatment of a situation which lends itself to his 
symbolical interpretation. Yeats, however, could not 
have injected the grim humor and realistic irony of 
Synge into a miracle story, though he would not have 
scrupled to run counter to religious prejudices, as the 
dramatist does in the denouement, by causing Martin 
Doul to treat the saint with scant consideration. The 
gesture of the beggar in dashing the miraculous water 
to the ground has its parallel in the much disputed 
scene, in The Countess Cathleen, where Shemus stamps 



THE IMPULSE TO FOLK DKAMA 101 

the shrine under foot. Those who have condemned 
Yeats as "un-Irish" on that account will doubtless 
find in The Well of the Saints a similar motive for 
applying the term to Synge. The play, nevertheless, 
is informed by the very spirit of the race, which finds 
its most obvious expression in the rhythmic prose of 
the idiom in which it is WTitten. Its more subtle 
manifestations are defined by the relations of the two 
beggars to the external world of nature. 

Having witnessed the culminating indecency of the 
campaign against The Playboy of the Wester?! World, 
when the Irish Players were arrested at Philadelphia in 
1912, the American public can have but a slight interest 
in the milder forms of a persecution which has long 
since expired in Ireland. The absurd story, moreover, 
has been so extensively related by critics of this too 
much discussed work, that recapitulation is both un- 
desirable and unnecessary. It will be enough to say 
that notoriety immediately achieved for the author 
what his genius was but slowly acquiring, the attention 
of the serious public outside his own country. The 
noise made by his opponents gave his admirers in 
Ireland the opportunity of vindicating their belief 
in him, and, incidentally, of obtaining confirmation in 
their discernment, at the hands of educated criticism 
everywhere. Germany, as usual, had recognized the 
new genius in advance of his subsequent popularity 
abroad. Long before The Playboy was heard of. The 
Well of the Saints had been translated and was per- 
formed at Max Reinhardt's Theatre in Berlin, in 1906. 
But, generally speaking, Synge was the possession of a 



102 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

few until 1907, when his detractors forced him upon the 
notice of the reading public throughout the English- 
speaking world. It would be impossible to exaggerate 
the credit due to W. B. Yeats in this matter. A more 
timid mind would have shrunk from the odium of 
defying those who had, on the whole, befriended the 
work of the Dramatic Revival; a lesser personality 
would not have risked himself to forward the claims 
of the only writer whose fame could conflict with his 
ow^n. 

The now familiar narrative tells of the arrival of 
Christy Mahon in the " shebeen '^ or low saloon, of 
Michael James Flaherty, somewhere in County Mayo, 
and of the effect of his presence upon the inhabitants 
and frequenters of that resort. When Christy enters 
the cottage, Pegeen Mike, the daughter of the house, 
has just been left alone by her pusillanimous admirer 
and future husband, Shawn Keogh. Shawn would not 
stay unchaperoned with a young girl, so great is his 
deference to ecclesiastical authority. Pegeen Mike, 
disgusted at this supreme exhibition of timidity, is 
only too glad when the mysterious stranger comes upon 
the scene, and w^hen it transpires that Christy has 
murdered his ''da", she is the most interested of the 
group of villagers who crowd around to lionize the hero. 
The two are left alone and become increasingly at- 
tracted towards one another, the girl contrasting this 
brave and spirited young fellow with the miserable 
coward her parents have chosen for her — a typical 
specimen of a bad lot, whose defects are all the more 
manifest now that Christy is among them. All unite, 



THE IMPULSE TO FOLK DRAMA 103 

except Shawn, in admiring the man for the qualities 
they themselves do not possess, and the womenfolk 
are jealous as to who shall carry off such a prize. 

Pegeen Mike is determined that Christy shall marry 
her, and is never at a loss for expedients to discredit 
her rivals in his eyes. Not that this is necessary, for 
he is obviously infatuated by and flattered by the pas- 
sion he has aroused in the village beauty. The amorous 
passages between Pegeen and Christy are instinct with 
a fine primitive poetry, admirably in harmony with the 
two personalities, and have been justly praised as 
being the most remarkable poetic writing in contem- 
porary English. But the course of their love is not 
allowed to pass uninterruptedly. The playboy is 
induced to compete in the races being held in the 
village, and while he is away, his father arrives in search 
of the would-be parricide. Christy's blow had not 
killed, but only stunned, Old Mahon. His boasting is 
shown for what it is worth, and the halo of hero-worship 
falls from him, so far as Pegeen and the others are 
concerned. The subject of their recent admiration, 
however, has discovered new forces within himself. 
Instead of submitting to the blow^s of his father, as he 
used to do, Christy strikes him, in an attempt to con- 
summate the crime for which he had previously been 
idolized. Then he learns that there is "a great gap 
between a gallons story and a dirty deed." Every- 
body turns against him when visible action is sub- 
stituted for highly-colored narrative, and the two 
Mahons, father and son, are driven forth by universal 
hostility. 



104 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

In one of his rare statements of literary doctrine, 
Synge declared the measure of serious drama to be "the 
degree in which it gives the nourishment, not very 
easy to define, on which our imagination lives." It is 
only by the application of that test that the manifold 
excellences of The Playboy may be discovered. Its 
imaginative strength, enhanced by its wonderful verbal 
qualities, constitutes the charm, for the language is 
the perfect complement of the emotional intensity of 
the dramatist's conception. Where the passion of his 
mood is exalted, as in the love passages of Christy and 
Pegeen Mike, speech rises to the level of the purest 
poetry. In the altercations between rivals, and the 
scenes of quarrel, the same medium becomes an in- 
strument of human expression whose vigor and varied 
picturesqueness are paralleled only by the English of 
the Elizabethan era. This medium, now so universally 
admired, was the Anglo-Irish idiom of Gaelic Ireland. 
Not since Douglas Hyde's Love Songs of Connacht 
revealed the possibilities of peasant speech, nearly 
twenty years ago, had such effect been secured by the 
use of the idiom. Synge has admitted his share in 
the general debt to Hyde, whose experiments in Gaeli- 
cized English have shown the way to so many writers, 
notably to Lady Gregory, who is frequently credited 
with an originality not entirely hers. But where 
Hyde was a too cautious experimenter, and Lady 
Gregory a perceptible literary reporter, Synge showed 
himself a master. Guided by the example of the Love 
Songs of Connacht, he made a more intimate study from 
the living speech of the Western peasantry, and was 



THE IMPULSE TO FOLK DRAMA 105 

able to say, in the preface to The Playboy: "I am 
glad to acknowledge how much I owe to the folk- 
imagination of these fine people." 

The remarkable style of this play stands out when 
contrasted with the "Kiltartan English" of Lady 
Gregory's Cuchulain of Muirthemne, where the idiomatic 
phrasing has the air of a formula, cold and artificial, 
except where the inherent beauty of a phrase confers 
upon it some intrinsic merit. Synge does not mechani- 
cally reproduce what he has heard in the cottages ; he 
molds the raw material, as it were, of peasant speech 
until it corresponds exactly to the impulse of his own 
imagination. Hence the delicate harmony of thought 
and phrase. He had so completely identified himself 
with the life of the people, and so thoroughly colored 
his vision with the Gaelic spirit of its original concep- 
tion, that he could create where others reported. "In 
countries," he says, "where the imagination of the 
people, and the language they use, is rich and living, 
it is possible for a writer to be rich and copious in his 
words, and at the same time to give the reality, which 
is the root of all poetry, in a comprehensive and natural 
form." That sentence is at once an explanation and a 
characterization of Synge's work, especially when we 
recall his own words : " In Ireland, for a few years 
more, we have a popular imagination that is fiery and 
magnificent and tender ; so that those of us w^ho wish 
to write start w^ith a chance that is not given to writers 
in places where the springtime of the local life is for- 
gotten, and the harvest is a memory only." 

Strange, indeed, is the perversity which insisted 



106 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

upon a moral — or immoral — purpose in the writing 
of The Playboy, and the other dramas which have 
been condemned upon ethical grounds. Synge's at- 
tempts to reply to his censors have only added to the 
preliminary confusion of thought upon which the 
controversy was based. Instead of describing this 
play as "an extravaganza" in the first wild moments of 
popular indignation, and then withdrawing the term, 
in order to engage upon a demonstration of the reality 
of the facts alleged as libels, he would have done well 
to keep silent. Failing that, he should have confined 
himself to that explanation published shortly after- 
wards in the preface to The Tinker's Wedding: "The 
drama, like the symphony, does not teach or prove 
anything." As Synge complained, "in these days the 
playhouse is too often stocked with the drugs of many 
seedy problems", and we may be sure he had no desire 
to add to the number. Unfortunately, by meeting 
his critics on their own ground, he helped to inject an 
alien element into all subsequent discussion of The 
Playboy. Criticism is still preoccupied with the 
problem of his "purpose" in writing that play. As if 
one should speculate upon the libellous veracity of Don 
Quixote, or examine Tartarin de Tarascon as a homily 
upon the Eighth Commandment ! Cervantes and 
Synge both reconstructed imaginatively the moral 
and psychological elements of a race, so that their 
figures assume the significance of eternal human types. 
The loss sustained by Irish literature through the 
early death of Synge was sharply emphasized by the 
posthumous publication of Deirdre of the Sorrows, This 



THE IMPULSE TO FOLK DRAMA 107 

unfinished tragedy was produced in 1910 at the Abbey- 
Theatre, and appeared in book form the same year. 
In spite of the variously successful rehandling of this 
classic theme by numerous predecessors, Synge's 
version has such beauty and originality as could only 
come from so powerful and independent a genius. In 
discussing the Deirdre of Yeats, we had occasion to 
notice how he departed from the precedent of A. E. 
by making the crisis in the Gaelic story his point of 
departure, whereas Synge followed A. E. in dividing 
the legend into three dramatic episodes. At this point, 
however, the resemblance between the two ceases. 
Synge, with his innate sense of drama, and his profound 
intuition of the Gaelic spirit, retold the tragedy of 
Naisi and Deirdre in terms pulsating with heroic life. 
His sure instinct for what is most national in the story 
prompted him to transpose it into that key of contem- 
porary nationality most attuned to the old Celtic origins 
of the epic romance. Deirdre is no longer a shadowy 
personage of the heroic age, a legendary figure; she 
is a wild, passionate woman, who struggles helplessly 
against the fate which is to deprive her of life and love. 
Although the play develops along the familiar lines 
of the bardic tale, with only the strange character of 
Owen as an innovation, there is an original and per- 
sonal note in every line. Whether it be Deirdre's 
cry : " There are as many ways to wither love as there 
are stars in a night of Samhain ; but there is no way 
to keep life, or love with it, a short space only. It's 
for that there's nothing lonesome like a love that is 
watching out the time most lovers do be sleeping", or 



108 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

Owen's warning : " Queens get old, Deirdre, with their 
white and long arms going from them, and their backs 
hooping. I tell you it's a poor thing to see a queen's 
nose reaching down to scrape her chin", — the im- 
print of Synge and of that Ireland nearest to the Celtic 
tradition is visible. Written while the author was 
dying, his end hastened by the strain of the Playboy 
controversy, Deirdre has all the sadness of Synge's 
own tragic conviction that "death is a poor untidy 
thing at best, though it's a queen that dies." The 
personal tragedy of the dramatist, and the intense 
reality of the characters drawn from a people allied 
by untamed nature to their prototypes of legend, com- 
bine to give this work an intensity unequaled by any 
other tragic writer. Unfinished as it is, Deirdre prom- 
ises to be, if not Synge's masterpiece, the greatest 
modern version of the Gaelic classic. Not only is it 
humanly and dramatically more convincing than the 
plays of Yeats and A. E., but it contains such pure 
poetry as to make even the beautiful poem of the former 
seem poor in its lack of the passion inspiring the voice 
of Deirdre: 

I have put away sorrow like a shoe that is worn out 
and muddy, for it is I who have had a life that will be 
envied by great companies. It was not by a low birth 
I made kings uneasy, and they sitting in the halls of 
Emain. It was not a low thing to be chosen by Con- 
chubar who was wise, and Naisi had no match for 
bravery. It is not a small thing to be rid of grey hairs 
and the loosening of the teeth. It was the choice of 
lives we had in the clear woods, and in the grave we're 
safe surely. 



THE IMPULSE TO FOLK DRAMA 109 

Passages of this kind are frequent, and indicate what 
Synge's command of Anglo-Irish idiom would have 
meant for the future of the folk drama, had he lived 
long enough to carry out his intentions. For there can 
be little doubt but that he would have turned his atten- 
tion to Irish legend, once he had realized his power to 
revivify and transfigure the epic material. It is known 
that he contemplated the breaking of new ground, and 
the play at which death interrupted him may be re- 
garded as pointing the way of his proposed escape from 
the semi-realistic study of peasant life. Fundamentally 
Deirdre and Riders to the Sea are alike, in spite of the 
superficial air of realism which the setting of the latter 
confers upon it. Folk tragedy, even though the fable 
be classic, is the only term which accurately describes 
Synge's Deirdre, which is, therefore, an essential part 
of the author's work, not an exceptional experiment, as 
some have maintained. The creator of TJie Playboy 
was something more than an exponent of peasant 
drama, however much the more external aspects of 
his art have impressed his successors. They have 
adopted his form, but have failed, as a rule, to fill it 
with that subtle essence whereby Synge transformed 
reality until the real and the ideal were one. It is 
this imaginative re-creation which entitles him to a 
place amongst the great dramatists of the world's 
literature. 



110 THE CONTEMrORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 



Padraic Colum 

One, at least, of younger playwrights is free from the 
suspieion of having suceumbed to the prestige conferred 
l>y %"K^ iii)()n the peasant drama. Paxh-aie ('olum 
diiVers from his contemporaries }>y reason of liis having 
given tlie measure of liis originality before Syngc had 
excTted any infhience upon the work of tlie Irish 
Theatre. Althougli Coluin's years pUice him among 
what is termed "the younger generation", his early 
beginning makes such a classification mishijiding. As 
previously stated, the debuts of Synge and Colum 
were contemporaneous, the latter's Broken Soil having 
followed In the Shadow of the Glen by a few weeks, 
in 19();i But if we take account of his activities prior 
to the organization of the Irish National Theatre So- 
ciety, Cohnn's seniority is even more definitely estab- 
lished, not only as against the hiter dramatists with 
whom lie is classed, but against Synge himself. Padraic 
Colum was one of the grou}) with the brothers Fay 
which launched the movement whose succession to the 
task of the Literary Theatre has been related in an 
earlier chapter. About 1901 he came into contact with 
the embryonic association promoted by the Fays, and 
the interest of the experiment awoke in him the crea- 
tive desire. The following year saw the ])ublication 
of his first dramatic essays, The Kingdom of the Young 
and The Saxon Shilling. At the same time he actively 
participated in the enterprise of the circle by playing 



THE IMPULSE TO FOLK DRAMA 111 

in A. E/s Deirdre, at the inaugural performance of the 
National Dramatic Company as the successor of the 
Irish Literary Theatre. In short, Padraic Colum is 
one of the oldest workers in the movement which has 
given Ireland a National Theatre. 

Like almost every Irish writer of to-day, Colum 
found in The United Irishvian his first encouragement. 
That brave little journal of ideas, and its successor 
8mn Fein, publisiied the work of all who had anything 
to contribute to Irish culture, and in its files will be 
found the earliest, as well as the later, manifestations 
of many talents since known to fame. James Stephens 
wrote in its columns some of the most widely admired 
pages in his Crock of Gold, when only such an editor 
as Arthur Griffith had the discernment to print them. 
Drama and verse, particularly, met with his discrimi- 
nating hospitality. Tlianks to his initiative, such 
tentative writings as Eoghan's Wife and The Foley s 
were published while Colum was still feeling his way 
towards those realistic analyses of the peasant mind 
whose first important exposition was Broken Soil, 
For Sinn Fein the dramatist also wrote verse, in the 
company of Seumas O'Sullivan, James Stephens, 
Thomas MacDonagh, and a host of young poets, some 
of whose work was collected by A. E. for his little 
anthology. New Songs (1904). l^'ncouraged by the 
reception of that book, several of these new singers 
issued their own poems, and amongst them Colum, 
whose Wild Earth appeared in 1907. This remarkable 
volume, through which breathed the essential spirit of 
folk poetry, was reissued later with additions, but the 



112 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

claims of the theatre were so to absorb the poet that 
he is only now promising us another book of verse. 

After its production in 1903, Broken Soil was re- 
written, and did not make its appearance as a printed 
play until 1907, when it was entitled The Fiddler's 
House. This first play, like those that followed it, 
depends not at all upon the intricacies of external 
action. No other Irish dramatist dispenses so boldly 
with plots as Colum, who relies entirely upon the 
psychological interest of the situation presented by the 
grouping of character and motives. One is reminded 
of Ibsen, not the Ibsen of violent denouements, as in 
Hedda Gahler or Ghosts, but the Ibsen of A Doll's House, 
which may well have suggested the second title of 
Broken Soil. Conn Hourican, the old fiddler, has the 
temperament of the artist, the restless longing for 
freedom and change, which are incompatible with the 
settled virtues of the peasant estate. His daughters 
are the victims of his improvidence, for only Maire 
understands him sufficiently to sympathize with his 
attitude towards life. Anne has the instinct of her 
class and race, which compels her to cling to the soil^ 
and enables her to keep the affairs of the "bohemian" 
household in order. 

The dramatist contents himself with setting Houri- 
can in this milieu of thrifty, responsible peasants, and 
by the intimate fidelity of the picture the contrast 
between the fiddler and his neighbors is dramatically 
exposed. The thoughts and cares of a rural community 
are depicted with the skill and knowledge which come 
only from a talent born and developed in similar 



THE IMPULSE TO FOLK DRAMA 113 

circumstances. When Conn Hourican finally obeys 
the call of the roads, and sets off with Maire to live his 
life as a strolling fiddler, we have obtained a glimpse 
into the soul of a people. The characters of Colum's 
drama are not the stereotyped figures of conventional 
peasant melodrama, they are human beings drawn 
straight from the heart of the Irish midlands. The 
struggle whose climax closes the play has taken place 
on a purely intellectual plane, as moving in its restraint 
as the tragedy of Ibsen's Nora. Conn Hourican's 
closing words are typical of the natural appeal of the 
entire dialogue : " I'm leaving the land behind me, 
too; but what's land after all against the music that 
comes from far, strange places, when the night is on 
the ground, and the bird in the grass is quiet?" Not 
even the highly colored prose of Synge is more effective. 
The "agrarian comedy" which preceded The Fiddler's 
House was the author's first published w^ork. The 
Land appeared in 1905, as number three of that "Abbey 
Theatre Series" of plays which opened with Synge's 
Well of the Saints, and its literary merits correspond to 
the high place there accorded to it. Only the two vol- 
umes of the series for which Synge was responsible can 
claim superiority to this dramatization of the funda- 
mental problem of peasant life, the call of the land. The 
year of its production marked the closing scene of the 
agrarian revolution in Ireland, for in 1905 the Irish 
farmer was coming into possession of the land under 
the terms of the Land Act of 1903, which definitely 
established peasant proprietorship. Out of his deep 
knowledge of rural conditions, Colum was able to 



114 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

envisage the new prospect from a side not open to 
the casual observer. 

The fatal attraction of the city is a commonplace 
amongst those interested in agricultural reform, but 
Ireland has to face the more serious competition of 
the United States. In The Land is shown how the 
youth and vigor of the countryside are drawn away by 
the lure of America. Murtagh Cosgar is a typical 
Irish farmer, with all the belief in parental authority 
and the claims of the family, characteristic of his race. 
No sacrifice is too great to preserve the land and the 
traditions of the house intact. His generation have 
fought and suffered for the ownership of the soil, but 
the emotion he would appeal to is dead in his son. Matt, 
who threatens to emigrate if his liberty is curtailed 
by parental interference. The old man submits, but 
he humbles in vain before a young generation, whose 
thoughts are fixed upon "the States." Matt, perhaps, 
would have felt something of the old peasant instinct 
towards the land, but his sweetheart, Ellen Douras, 
has been educated as a school-teacher, and her ambi- 
tions lie in a very different direction. America is 
everything to such intellectual deracines, whose one 
desire is to escape to the centers of urban civilization. 
In the end Matt and Ellen go away, leaving the farm 
to the younger children, Cornelius Douras and Sally 
Cosgar, who are too stupid to take the risk of indepen- 
dent action. Old age and ineflSciency are the recipients 
of the benefits for which generations vainly struggled 
and died. 

The action of the play consists of a series of subtle 



THE IMPULSE TO FOLK DRAMA 115 

incidents which bring out the clash of two generations 
of Irish peasants, the revolt of youth against the laws 
of its elders. Rather than face the tyranny of the 
family, the young people gladly seize upon the reported 
advantages of life in America as an excuse for abandon- 
ing the land. They experience none of the joys of 
victory, for they did not take part in the land wars of 
which their chief recollection is the misery and suffer- 
ing entailed. The tragedy is, therefore, in the fact 
that now, when Ireland should be rebuilding its rural 
society, the brains and energy of the peasantry have 
been exported for industrial exploitation. The Land 
is a poignant presentation of the question which forces 
itself upon the attention of every thinking Irishman. 
The answer is one which is engaging the best thought 
of the country, and has found concrete expression 
in the economic program of A. E. and his fellow- 
workers outlined in Co-operation and Nationality. 
That eloquent plea for reconstruction indicates the 
nature of the reply to the query upon which the play 
closes : " Do you ever think of the Irish nation that 
is waiting all this time to be born ? " 

Elaborating a point raised in The Land, but viewing 
it from an opposite angle, Padraic Colum wrote Thomas 
Muskerry in 1910. The exigencies of a social system 
in which the family unit replaces the industrial is a 
theme which French writers have frequently studied, 
but Colum is alone in his attempt to perform the same 
service for Ireland. He does not, hov/ever, expand 
the situations already noticed in the preceding play. 
It is the father, not his children, who are made to suffer 



116 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

from the abuse of family obligation: Thomas 
Muskerry, the master of Garrisowen Workhouse, is 
surrounded by two generations of relatives whose 
only wish is to make the utmost profit of their relation- 
ship with a man of some importance in a small country 
town. When his official retirement is hastened by the 
malpractice of a friend who has exploited his kindness, 
the family and dependents of Muskerry at once con- 
spire to get rid of him, that they may the better estab- 
lish themselves with his successor. This provincial 
Lear becomes the center of a series of sordid intrigues, 
which result in his utter destitution and abandonment 
at the hands of those whom he has benefited all the 
years of his active life. Muskerry dies on a pauper's 
bed in the institution of which he once was master, 
his only friend the blind piper, Myles Gorman, whom 
he considered in the days of his prosperity as a perfect 
example of a man without home or friends. An out- 
cast and a vagabond, Myles is the only person who aids 
him, who remembers his goodness, and makes his last 
moments tolerable. Like another Pere Goriot, Thomas 
Muskerry is killed by the selfish ingratitude of the 
family he has created. 

These three plays are Columns most important con- 
tribution to contemporary Irish drama. Each por- 
trays some special aspect of rural life as seen by the 
peasant mind, and their common characteristic — 
which is significant — is the presence of conflict 
traceable to a family system involving the sacrifice 
of the individual. There is no attempt to formulate 
problems with a view to their solution, but only to 



THE IMPULSE TO FOLK DKAMA 117 

present those situations which afford a dramatic in- 
sight into the workings of the folk nature. Padraic 
Colum was born in the Irish Midlands, and the drama 
of existence naturally projected itself upon his con- 
sciousness in terms of the peasantry whose world was 
his own. "The dramatist", he writes, "is concerned 
not primarily with the creation of character, but with 
the creation of situations . . . that will produce a 
powerful impression on an audience, for it is situation 
that makes the strongest appeal to our sympathies." 
With his own carefully restrained pictures before us, 
from which every adventitious or forced note is elimi- 
nated, it is easy to subscribe to this theory. His 
sobriety is, in its way, as impressive as the vivid fan- 
tasy of Synge. 

^:>,Yet he has not confined himself exclusively to this 
naturalistic art. As far back as 1904 we find him 
working at that Miracle of the Corn which was pub- 
lished three years later in the little booklet Studies and 
was performed at the Abbey Theatre in 1908. In 
1912 he published The Destruction of the Hostel, a be- 
lated return to his very youthful preoccupation with 
the heroic stories of Gaelic Ireland. Based upon 
Whitley Stokes's translation of The Destruction of the 
Hcmse of Da Derga, this fine little piece was well re- 
ceived when performed by the pupils of the late Pad- 
raic Pearse, at St. Enda's College, Dublin, in 1910. 
Since a tragic death has deprived Ireland of a notable 
figure in the history of our intellectual renaissance, that 
unique institution will doubtless disappear. Without 
the lofty idealism of Pearse, St. Enda's could not have 



118 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

become what it was. It is fortunate that the publi- 
cation of Colum's play in the pages of A Boy in Eirinn 
(1913) should have preserved something to remind us 
of the literary side of an admirable educational innova- 
tion: the first experiment in genuinely Irish national 
education. 

The grave and dignified prose of Colum's The De- 
struction of the Hostel promises much for the author 
should he turn to Gaelic literature for the material 
which he has heretofore found in his own experience. 
A determination to seek some new direction for his 
talent was revealed by the publication in 1912 of The 
Desert, just published in America under the title of 
Moguy the Wanderer. This play, hastily issued to sup- 
port a charge of plagiarism, has now been given the per- 
manent revision which the dramatist had desired for 
it. Its main interest lies in the fact that the setting of 
this drama of Fate, full of the color of the East, gave 
the first clue to the author's new orientation. Since 
that time his imagination has been occupied with By- 
zantine history, and the romance of that vague Orient, 
which his compatriot, Lord Dunsany, has so splendidly 
divined. 

Until we have been allowed to see the work of these 
experimental years, it would be premature to pass 
judgment upon the second manner of Padraic Colum, 
as exemplified in The Desert. If he can realize the un- 
undeniable promise of that play, whose spectacular 
effectiveness easily surpasses the popular Kismet of 
Mr. Edward Knoblauch, his success would seem 
assured. It was the peculiar similarity of these two 



THE IMPULSE TO FOLK DRAMA 119 

dramas which forced him to publish The Desert, in 
order to prove its long priority to a piece which had 
been justified on the ground of mere literary coinci- 
dence. Without denying him the right to express his 
fancy as it wills, one cannot help at the same time 
regretting, and preferring, the author of The Land, 
and The Fiddler's Hoiise. Murtagh Cosgar and Conn 
Hourican are not to be evoked by every dramatist, 
however gifted. Such figures could only be recon- 
structed by one whose roots in the soil are as deep as 
theirs. They are the true protagonists of the folk 
drama and could not have been conceived except in 
the spirit of the movement which Colum helped to 
initiate. 

Unfortunately, like most of his early companions in 
that dramatic enterprise, including its originators the 
Fays, Padraic Colum has seen his work gradually 
neglected by the National Theatre. Coincidentally 
with the departure of the actors and playwrights to 
whose pioneering activities that institution owes its 
fame, his plays have disappeared from the current 
repertory of the Irish Players. Precedence has been 
given to those stereotyped farces and melodramas whose 
only claim to distinction is their Irish accent, and which 
are saved from utter banality by what still survives of 
the histrionic achievement of the brothers Fay. The 
newcomers have learnt the formulae and can count upon 
popularity with those to whom the Irish Theatre is a 
species of eccentric show. They have adopted the 
external features of Columns realism, as they have 
borrowed the superficial violences of Synge's verbal 



120 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

energy. With certain exceptions, to be noted subse- 
quently, the later "Abbey playwrights" have con- 
tributed nothing personal to the development of the 
peasant play. J. M. Synge and Padraic Colum have 
between them prescribed the two modes of the genrey 
their complete dissimilarity being testimony to the 
original genius of each. At the cost of popular success, 
Colum has remained faithful to himself ; he has with- 
stood the temptation to melodramatize Synge. 



CHAPTER VI 

Peasant Comedy: Lady Gregory and William 

Boyle 



Writing and Environment 

While the later imitative dramatists, under the 
influence of Synge, have specialized in scenes of vio- 
lence, they have not been without models of another 
kind. Lady Gregory and William Boyle both estab- 
lished a reputation as comic writers at a comparatively 
early stage in the history of the Dramatic Revival, 
and, contrary to the experience of the majority of 
their colleagues at that time, neither has suffered from 
the advent of changed conditions. The exigencies 
of finance and the demands of essentially uncritical 
audiences, have modified to some extent the intentions 
of the founders of the Irish Theatre. But Lady Greg- 
ory and William Boyle have succeeded, not only in 
retaining the prominence denied to such pioneers as 
A. E. and Padraic Colum, but they have become the 
most popular playwrights of the new regime. Their 
work vies with that of the younger melodramatists of 
recent years, so that they may serve as a link between 

121 



122 THE CONTEMPORAEY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

the pioneering era with which they were associated 
and the newcomers to whom the original organization 
is a vague tradition. Lady Gregory, it is true, wrote 
her maiden effort, Twenty -five, in 1903, when the Fays' 
group had just been reorganized as the Irish National 
Theatre Society, but her real success practically coin- 
cided with that of William Boyle, when the Abbey 
Theatre was opened to the public for the first season, 
in 1905. Ever since that date they have been more 
constantly before the public than other Irish drama- 
tists. 

Lady Gregory has been such an indefatigable worker 
on behalf of the Literary Revival in general, and of the 
Irish Theatre in particular, that it would be unjust 
to suggest the limitation of her role to the purveying 
of popular amusement. In a chapter of autobiography, 
Our Irish Theatre (1913), she has given an account of 
her participation in the movement which can leave no 
doubt as to the multiple nature of her services. 
Readers of that work will learn of considerable activi- 
ties which could not have reached the knowledge of 
the outside world had she not disclosed them. So 
completely has she set forth the history of the Dramatic 
Revival, in its relation to herself, that nothing remains 
to be added by another hand. Socially, financially, 
and administratively. Lady Gregory has used her in- 
fluence to foster the undertaking with which W. B. 
Yeats associated her, when A. E. had convinced him 
of the possibilities of W. G. Fay's company of players. 
Both her own statements and those of Yeats testify 
to the mutual advantage of their cooperation, and while 



LADY GREGORY AND WILLIAM BOYLE 123 

this collaboration has been severely criticized on liter- 
ary grounds, the devotion of Lady Gregory has never 
been questioned. It is possible to argue that the 
quality of Yeats's work has been diminished by the 
association of an art seriously at variance with his 
own; it cannot be denied that his activities for the 
advancement of the Irish Theatre have been strength- 
ened and enlarged by the presence of a faithful collab- 
orator. 

Lady Gregory having herself placed on record the 
nature and extent of her share in the building up of 
the National Theatre, it is only necessary to refer to 
her general position in the world of Anglo-Irish letters. 
A brief consideration of her non-dramatic writings will 
enable us to turn to those specific contributions to 
contemporary Irish drama upon which the present 
estimate must be based. In addition to the volume of 
reminiscence already mentioned. Lady Gregory is the 
author of some half-dozen prose works, which are 
entitled to a higher place in contemporary Irish litera- 
ture than any of her more popular plays : Cuchulain 
of Muirthemne (1902), Poets and Dreamers (1903), 
Gods and Fighting Men (1904), A Book of Saints and 
Wonders (1906). To these may be added, for com- 
pleteness, two works of lesser importance, — The 
Kiltartan Wonder Book and The Kiltartan History Book, 
both published in 1910. 

Cuchulain of Muirthemne and Gods and Fighting 
Men have been greeted with such extremes of praise 
and blame that their real merits and demerits have 
been obscured. The former volume is a retelling of the 



124 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA 01^ IRELAND 

Cuchulain legends; the latter performs the same ser- 
vice for the legends of the Fianna, as well as for the 
deities of Celtic mythology. In neither instance was 
Lady Gregory the initiator some have been led to 
believe. Numerous versions of these Gaelic stories 
had been made prior to the advent of the works in 
question, the most notable being the two volumes of 
Standish James O'Grady: The History of Ireland: 
Heroic Period (1878) and The History of Ireland: Cucu- 
lain and his Contemporaries (1880). This wonderful 
expression of an epic imagination kindled the enthu- 
siasm of the poets, W. B. Yeats, A. E., and their friends 
from whom the Irish Literary Revival received its im- 
pulse. All the writers of their generation acknowl- 
edged O'Grady as the prophet who had led them into 
the rich fields of Gaelic poetry and tradition, and his 
fame in Ireland is all the more precious because it 
has never spread abroad. Few Irishmen will deny 
him the title of " Father of the Revival." The brilliant 
eloquence and ardent vision of O'Grady first brought 
the old bardic literature into circulation again, rescuing 
it from the laborious attention of translators and anti- 
quarians. 

Though he has not failed to voice his share in that 
prevailing admiration for O'Grady, W. B. Yeats has 
managed to convey the impression that, but for Lady 
Gregory, Gaelic legend and history would have re- 
mained in the obscurity of the learned societies. It is 
possible that some few of the younger generation in 
Ireland owe to her their first enthusiasm for the heroic 
tales, but even the youngest poets have learned much 



LADY GREGORY AND WILLIAM BOYLE 125 

from O'Grady. The original character of Lady Greg- 
ory's versions lies rather in their composition and 
style. She has taken all the available texts, and by a 
process of coordination and elimination has welded 
them into a homogeneous and consecutive narrative. 
At the same time she has employed peasant idiom, in 
order to evoke the atmosphere in which the legendary 
lore of Gaelic Ireland is still living, in the cottages of 
the West, where the old traditions are preserved. Both 
these innovations have been severely criticized. On 
the one hand, it is argued that the original text is 
distorted by this arbitrary method of collation, on 
the other, that the monotony and artificiality of the 
idiomatic style deprive the old epics of their virile 
nobility. This criticism would be more forcible, per- 
haps, if Lady Gregory were the sole source to which 
the reader could turn for information. But transla- 
tions of varying degrees of accuracy are available, 
from the scholarly publications of the Irish Texts 
Society, — The Cuchullin Saga of Eleanor Hull, for 
example, — to the vivid historical reconstructions of 
O'Grady. There can be no question as to the popular 
value of such works as Lady Gregory's, and it is with 
the general public in mind that one can indorse the 
laudatory comments of W. B. Yeats, w^ho holds Cuchu- 
lain of Muirthemne and its companion volume to be 
the Irish equivalent of Malory's Morte d' Arthur. 

Poets and Dreamers, like A Book of Saints and Won- 
ders, has an interest of a documentary rather than a 
literary nature. Both consist largely of brief frag- 
ments and anecdotes which are illustrative of the folk 



126 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

imagination, as the idiom is an illustration of folk 
speech. Reading them, one understands where Lady 
Gregory amassed that wealth of verbal humor upon 
which her comedies rely for their effect. The first- 
mentioned book is valuable for its sympathetic essay 
on the poetry of Douglas Hyde, who originated the 
idiomatic method so greatly extended by Synge and 
Lady Gregory. It also contains translations of his 
verse and of four plays from the Gaelic. Lady 
Gregory has translated a number of Hyde's dramatic 
pieces, thereby strengthening her skill in the adapta- 
tion of Gaelicized English to the needs of literature. 
Her Kiltartan books are exercises of a similar kind, 
being simple narratives of history and folklore told 
in what has now become known as " Kiltartanese ", 
the speech of the country people in the district of 
Kiltartan, near the author's home in County Galway. 
This dialect has become familiar through its constant 
employment by Lady Gregory in the plays she has 
written for the Irish Theatre. Not the least successful, 
and certainly the most original, occasion of its use was 
in those remarkable translations of Le Medecin malgre 
lui, Les Fourheries de Scapin, and VAvare, which were 
performed at the Abbey Theatre during its first years, 
and appeared in 1910 as The Kiltartan Moliere. 

2 

The Comedies of Lady Gregory 

With the exception of The Unicorn from the Stars, 
which has already been mentioned amongst the works 



LADY GKEGORY AND WILLIAM BOYLE 127 

of W. B. Yeats, and Twenty-five, her first effort at 
dramatic writing, the plays of Lady Gregory have 
been collected into five volumes: Seven Short Plays 
(1909), The Image (1910), New Comedies (1913), and 
two collections oi Irish Folk History Plays (1912). Of 
all these, the first-mentioned contains her best and 
most characteristic work, including, as it does, those 
inimitable one-act farces which have never been long 
absent from the stage of the Abbey Theatre since its 
inception. Strange to say, the author's first contribu- 
tion to the repertory of the Irish Players was a serious 
drama. Twenty-five, which has never been published 
since its performance in 1903. The following year Lady 
Gregory wrote Spreading the News, the forerunner of 
those numerous little comedies with which her name 
is now associated. In rapid succession came Hyacinth 
Halvey, The Jackdaw, The Rising of the Moon, and 
The Poor house, and in 1907 three of her plays were 
issued in the Abbey Theatre Series, under the title. 
Spreading the News and other comedies. When the 
larger volume. Seven Short Plays, was published. The 
Poorhouse had been rewritten as The Workhouse Ward, 
and two pieces of a very different character were 
added. The Gaol Gate and The Travelling Man. 

The substance of these typical plays is too slight 
to bear summary. The usual starting point is some 
ridiculous misconception, which enables the characters 
to react grotesquely, as in The Jackdaw, where a mis- 
understanding leads to an absurd competition amongst 
the villagers, who believe that a large sum of money 
will be paid to them for every jackdaw they capture. 



128 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

In Spreading the News similar fun is derived from the 
distortion of an innocent remark by the credulous 
gossips of a village, which is thrown into a state of 
comic upheaval by the imaginary fears of its inhabit- 
ants. There is more genuine satire in The Workhouse 
Ward, with its humorous picture of two old paupers 
whose quarrels never cease until they are at the point 
of being separated. Then they sink their animosities 
and will not be parted. Since only one of them can be 
released, they prefer to remain together, but as the 
curtain falls, they are seen renewing in the most violent 
fashion their habitual war of words. The Rising of the 
Moon is an even better comedy of Irish nature : with 
its whimsical story of a policeman's struggle between 
his official duties and his national and personal sym- 
pathy for the rebel whom it is his business to arrest. 
The development of the incidents which finally per- 
suade him to let his prisoner escape is very skilful. 
Illustrative of another aspect of the same question is 
The Gaol Gate, one of Lady Gregory's finest works. 
Here the tragedy is that of a mother who comes to the 
prison where her son is held for a political offense. 
Grieved as she is at his loss, her grief is embittered by 
the belief that he has turned informer to escape death. 
When she learns that he has paid the extreme penalty 
rather than betray his friends, her caoin is one of 
mingled lament and joy at the thought of his patriotic 
faith. 

In New Comedies, Lady Gregory has collected her 
more recent one-act plays. The Bogie Men, The Full 
Moon, CoatSf Darner's Gold, and McDonough's Wife, 



LADY GEEGORY AND WILLIAM BOYLE 129 

None of these equals the earlier comedies ; the original 
verve and zest have made way for a certain mechanical 
effect which must be attributed to excessive exploita- 
tion of the same material. That this material is thin 
would seem to be indicated by the author's having had 
recourse to the device of resuscitating the characters 
of previous works. Amusing as Hyacinth Halvey was 
in the play of that name, he ceases to be so when 
regalvanized in The Full Moon, a play utterly devoid 
of good humor. There is a noticeable tendency in the 
later comic work of Lady Gregory towards the use of 
the most hackneyed ficelles of the conventional farce. 
Coats is of the species of curtain-raiser familiar to all 
patrons of vaudeville. 

On the other hand, The Image, the writer's most 
ambitious comedy, was a promising departure from the 
stereotyped farce. Its three acts center about a 
motive which has been developed with greater success 
by George Birmingham in General John Regan, — 
both plays having been derived from a suggestion of 
the poet, A. E. Those who have seen the latter play 
will be interested in comparing the treatment of an 
identical theme by two authors who have specialized 
in the humors of Irish life. As Lady Gregory works 
out the idea, that of honoring a wholly imaginary great 
man, the theme is radically modified, whereas George 
Birmingham confines his attention to the superficial 
comedy of such a situation. She describes how un- 
expected wealth comes in the shape of two whales to 
a poor village in the west of Ireland. The great fish 
are lying on the shore, and the protagonists of the play 



130 THE CONTEMPORAKY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

are speculating as to what they will do with their share 
of the proceeds when the oil is sold. The priest pro- 
poses that the money be spent for the good of the vil- 
lage, so it is decided to erect a statue to a certain Hugh 
O'Lorrha, for reasons whose exposition is the occasion 
of excellent satire. Days pass in quarreling and de- 
bating about the expenditure of the money, until it is 
discovered that all the oil has been drawn from the 
blubber of one whale by the men of a neighboring com- 
munity, while the other has been carried out to sea 
by the high tide. There is an undercurrent of satirical 
criticism in The Image which is absent from the rollick- 
ing good humor of General John Regan, but while the 
latter realizes its author's more modest intentions, the 
former just fails to be convincing. 



The Plays of Folk History 

The most original, if the least successful, part of 
Lady Gregory's dramatic writings will be found in the 
six Folk-History Plays, especially the three "tragic 
comedies". The Canavans, The White Cockade, and The 
Deliverer. The three tragedies, Grania, Kincora, and 
Devorgilla, are not such innovations in the treatment of 
legendary or historical themes. They are but sys- 
tematic attempts to do what Synge achieved, in Deirdre 
of the Sorrows, by the instinct of genius : to translate the 
subjects of classical tragedy into terms of folk drama. 
Kincora, for example, the earliest of these tragedies, 
deals with a situation out of Irish history. Brian, King 



LADY GEEGORY AND WILLIAM BOYLE 131 

of Munster, receives Malachi, the High King of Ire- 
land, at his royal house at Kincora, that they may try 
to arrange terms of peace in a mutually satisfactory 
manner. The two chieftains who are opposed to the 
arrangement, by which Malachi and Brian arrogate 
to themselves dominion over the North and South 
respectively, are afterwards defeated at the battle of 
Glenmama. The High King would condemn Sitric 
and Maelmora to death, but, at the instance of Queen 
Gormleith, whose son and brother are thus about to 
die, Brian champions the two offenders. Subsequently 
he overcomes Malachi, and receives as part of his vic- 
tory the hand of Gormleith, for "the Queen of Tara 
must not lose the crown of Tara." As Malachi, how- 
ever, foresaw, she could not exist without perpetual 
strife, being a captured Dane, without any feeling of 
pride in the country forced upon her. With her son, 
Sitric, Gormleith joins forces with the Danish invasion 
which Brian defeats at the battle of Clontarf, only to 
be killed himself in the hour of victory, his spirit crushed 
by the treacherous conduct of the Queen. 

The melodramatic incoherence of Kincora was doubt- 
less due in some measure to the fact that it was the 
author's first attempt at historical reconstruction. It 
has been drastically revised since its original publica- 
tion and production in 1905, the prologue, and two 
scenes in the third act having been omitted when it 
was revived in 1909. But the play of three acts does 
not seem to be within the scope of Lady Gregory's 
talent, as we noticed in the case of The Image. The 
"one-acter" shows her, as a rule, at her best, as was 



132 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

demonstrated when DezorgiUa, the second of her folk- 
history tragedies, was produced in 1907. Foreign 
critics have not been able to sense the appeal of this 
essentially national episode. Devorgilla is the old 
Queen of Breffny who was responsible, in the days of 
her youth, for bringing the English into Ireland. She 
is lixing a secluded and almost anon\Tnous existence 
at the Abbey of Mellifont, but the chance singing of a 
passing minstrel brings before her the tale of the havoc 
wrought by her former misdeeds. The unconscious 
offender is driven into the English camp by Devor- 
giUa's ser\'ant, Flann, whose life is taken by the enemies 
of his countr\-. The bereaved widow, in mourning her 
husband's death, reveals the identity of the old Queen 
to the assembled people, to whose sports Devorgilla 
had been in\-ited as prize-giver. As soon as they know 
who she is, they return contemptuously the trophies 
she has distributed, and the Queen submits to the in- 
sult, for she recognizes the justice in the "swift, un- 
flinching, terrible judgment of the yoimg." As played 
by Miss Sara AUgood, the part of Devorgilla was in- 
formed by all the tragic pathos of a life conscious of 
its responsibility for unutterable woe. 

By far the best of Lady Gregon.-'s experiments in 
serious folk drama is her as yet unacted Grania, which 
alone can be compared ^^ith S^iige's consummate 
achievement in this genre. The love storj' of Diar- 
muid and Grania is to the Fenian cycle of Irish legend 
what that of Xaisi and Deirdre is to the earlier Ossianic 
cycle, but it has exercised no corresponding fascination 
upon the poets. With the exception of that curious 



LADY GREGORY AND WILLIAM BOYLE 133 

play in which Moore and Yeats collaborated for the 
Irish Literary Theatre in 1901, this work of Lady 
Gregory's is the only dramatization of the subject which 
the Revival has seen. Grania is to marry Finn of 
Almhuin, but she prefers the youthful Diarmuid, with 
whom she flees into the wilderness, where they wander 
for seven years. Faithful to his pledge, Diarmuid 
refuses to become the lover of Grania, but, finally, 
circumstances force him to forget his vow, and for a 
brief week the couple live as man and wife. Grania, 
however, discovers that his resistance constituted 
Diarmuid's chief charm, and, once he has surrendered, 
her thoughts turn to other conquests. The lovers 
are about to quarrel when Finn arrives, in the guise 
of a beggar, to reproach Diarmuid with treachery. 
Touched with remorse, the young warrior rushes forth 
to fight for his master, and is slain. Whereupon Grania 
devotes her attentions to Finn, transferring her way- 
ward affection from youth to old age. This she could 
do for the reason that her feminine pride had keenly 
suffered from that faithfulness to Finn, which so long 
kept Diarmuid out of her power. That, at least, is 
Lady Gregory's interpretation of a character whose 
psychology presented itself to George ]\Ioore in less 
subtle terms — terms which brought upon the collab- 
orators the accusation of having transformed a beau- 
tiful legend into "the plot of an average French 
novel." 

The influence of Synge is evident in Grania, which 
rises above the fairly commonplace level of its com- 
panion plays precisely in proportion as it emulates 



134 THE CONTEMPOKARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

his manner. His rhythms are in such speeches as: 
*' But you and I could have changed the world entirely, 
and put a curb upon the springtide, and bound the 
seven elements with our strength," and "It was at 
that time he had done with deceit and he showed where 
his thought was, and had no word at all for me that 
left the whole world for his sake, and that went 
wearing out my youth, pushing here and there as far 
as the course of the stars of Heaven", or "my love that 
was allotted and foreshadowed before the making of 
the world will drag you in spite of yourself, as the 
moon above drags the waves, and they grumbling 
through the pebbles as they come, and making their 
own little moaning of discontent." Yet, one cannot 
compare the eloquent beauty of Synge's poetic idiom 
with these somewhat forced effects, without feeling 
that the latter are echoes rather than the expression 
of an original sense of verbal music. 

If we pass over the misplaced ingenuity of The 
Deliverer, in which allegory serves to illustrate the 
fate of such patriots as Parnell, there remain two 
tragi-comedies to whose unique character allusion has 
already been made. Just as Yeats approached the 
heroic age for the poetic farce of The Green Helmet , 
Lady Gregory brings out the comic aspect of certain 
phases of Irish history hitherto regarded with tragic 
seriousness. The Canavans (1906) is an extravaganza 
of general, rather than particular import, in which 
are burlesqued the difficulties of the miller, Canavan, 
who tries to prove himself a loyal subject of Queen 
Elizabeth. The supposed arrival of the Queen in 



LADY GREGORY AND WILLIAM BOYLE 135 

Ireland supplies material for farcical comedy differing 
in nothing, except its historical setting, from the 
author's farces of contemporary peasant life. On the 
other hand, precise and bitter satire is the basis of 
The White Cockade, which is easily first in order of 
merit, as it was the first to be produced, of Lady 
Gregory's historical comedies. It was played at the 
Abbey Theatre a year earlier than The Canavans, and 
was her second play to appear in book form. Kincora 
and The White Cockade were respectively volumes II and 
VIII of the Abbey Theatre Series, and were issued 
during 1905, the first year of its publication. 

The scene is laid at Duncannon, where King James 
the Second retreated after the Battle of the Boyne. 
The cowardly King has planned to escape on a French 
ship, abandoning the brave Sarsfield and the men who 
fought with him against William of Orange. His 
craven dependence upon Sarsfield is not at end, how- 
ever, for when James inadvertently comes upon a band 
of Williamites in an inn where he takes refuge, it 
is the general who saves him, by impersonating the 
King, and even winning over the enemy to his side. 
Unmoved by this further proof of bravery and loyalty, 
James pursues his determination to flee from his fol- 
lowers, and induces some French sailors to take him 
on board concealed in a barrel. Again he falls into 
the hands of his enemies, for the soldiers of William 
open this very cask to quench their thirst, but Sars- 
field persuades them to let so miserable a creature go 
free. As he broods over the betrayal of Ireland's faith 
by King James, Sarsfield pulls out the feathers of his 



136 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

cockade, counting each one as an attribute of the 
monarch, after the well-known game of childhood, 
until the last feather falls at the word "thief." James 
is neither king nor knave, soldier nor sailor, tinker nor 
beggar man ; he is the thief, who has robbed the Irish 
people of their honor. Nevertheless, the general will 
continue to fight for those ignominiously forsaken by 
the King. Equipped with a fresh cockade, picked up 
from the scattered emblems thrown away by the dis- 
illusioned soldiers of James, Patrick Sarsfield sets out 
to champion the lost cause. 

Such a treatment of one of the most delicate and 
dangerous subjects in Irish history indicates that Lady 
Gregory is able to bring considerable impartiality to 
the portrayal of national subjects. The dramatists 
of the Irish Theatre have broken with the tradition 
which demanded the patriotic idealizations of melo- 
drama from all who essayed to dramatize the history 
of Ireland's struggle for freedom. We shall have 
occasion to cite instances of this tendency in the 
next chapter. While crediting the author of Grania 
and The White Cockade with the originality of these 
experiments in folk history, we must not overlook the 
literary quality of her work. From that point of view 
it is easier to approve of her intentions than to praise 
their realization. What has been said of Grania is 
true of folk-history plays as a whole. Their relation 
to Synge is their degree of excellence, whether they 
be derivative or not. The Canavans preceded The 
Playboy, yet the leading motive is the same; Grania 
followed Deirdre of the Sorrows and bears traces of its 



LADY GREGORY AND WILLIAM BOYLE 137 

influence. Both dramatists studied the same people, 
and may well have reached an identity of mood be- 
cause of this common origin of their dramatic world. 
But precisely this community of material involves 
contrasts which give precedence to Synge, and make 
us more than usually sensible of Lady Gregory's 
weaknesses. 

Her own judgment in this matter is sound. Speak- 
ing of the circumstances which led her to essay his- 
torical drama instead of peasant comedy she says : 
"Perhaps I ought to have written nothing but these 
short comedies, but desire for experiment is like fire 
in the blood." Lady Gregory is remembered as the 
author of The Workhouse Ward and The Gaol Gate 
rather than as the experimental writer of folk tragedies 
and tragi-comedies. Within the limitations of one 
short act she can obtain effects of humor and pathos, 
denied to her longer plays, which have secured her 
place in the affection of all who are interested in the 
Irish Theatre. An analysis of the programs of the 
Abbey Theatre will reveal the phenomenal popularity 
of Lady Gregory, whose one-act comedies are per- 
formed twice and three times as often as those of any 
other playwright. There is something excessive in 
this complacent bidding for purely popular favor. In 
the season of 1912, for example, sixteen performances 
of The Rising of the Moon were given, as against three 
of The Playboy, while Thomas Muskerry was not 
presented even half as often as The Workhouse Ward. 
The latter was surpassed, in its turn, by the ineffable 
Coats, which was produced on no less than twelve 



138 THE CONTEMPOEAKY DEAMA OF lEELAND 

occasions during a season of thirty plays. Granting 
the charm of such whimsical drolleries of speech and 
situation as Lady Gregory originally conceived, it is 
impossible to reconcile them with the claims of literary 
drama. Her predominant position in the repertory of 
the Irish Theatre hardly corresponds to what is per- 
manent in her contribution to Irish literature. 



The Comedies of William Boyle 

Akin to that of Lady Gregory is the work of William 
Boyle, whose three and four-act comedies are the 
counterpart of her short farces, in their successful and 
constant appeal to popular audiences. It was not 
until 1905, when the Abbey Theatre was opened, that 
Boyle's name w^as associated with the Dramatic Move- 
ment. He was known as a writer of verse and short 
stories for the newspapers, and had published a collec- 
tion of peasant studies of the County Louth, a Kish 
of Brogues, in 1899. His published plays are four in 
number, and were published and produced as follows : 
The Building Fund (1905), The Eloquent Dempsey 
(1906), The Mineral Workers (1906), and Family 
Failing (1912). In 1907 the author seceded from the 
Irish Theatre as a protest against Synge, whose Play- 
boy did not meet with his approval. He eventually 
returned to give his Family Failing, and has since en- 
joyed the satisfaction of seeing three or four perform- 
ances of that play in each season to one of Synge's 
masterpiece. 



LADY GREGOKY AND WILLIAM BOYLE 139 

The Building Fund is the only work which calls for 
more than passing comment. It was written out of 
that knowledge of the Louth peasantry which was 
evident in the author long before he was attracted to 
the theatre by the first London visit of the Irish Players. 
While The Eloquent Devipsey and Family Failing are 
commonplace caricature, farcical to an extreme only 
found in a few of Lady Gregory's latest comedies, The 
Building Fund is a sincere picture of rural manners. 
It relates how Mrs. Grogan, a grasping old woman, 
succeeds in defeating her equally selfish son and grand- 
daughter, on the pretext of performing an act of charity. 
When two farmers call to ask for her contribution to 
the building fund of the new church, she and her son 
drive them away empty-handed. But she has con- 
ceived a plan whereby the greedy calculations of Shan 
and Sheila will come to nought, even when her much- 
wished-for death takes place. When the farmers 
return on another occasion, she contributes to their 
collection by making a will leaving her money to the 
church. The plot is of the slightest, yet, so excellent 
is the characterization of the various types, and so 
skillfully is the dialogue woven, that the play holds the 
audience and the reader alike. 

Technically the later plays are perhaps more perfect 
in their conformity to the accepted conventions of the 
"well-written" comedy. Surprises and stage effects 
are plentiful in the comedy of Jeremiah Dempsey, the 
opportunist politician whose eloquence betrays him, 
and in The Mineral Workers, with its account of the 
difficulties experienced by an Irish-American when he 



140 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

tries to arouse the energies and enterprise of a com- 
munity whose soil is rich in mineral qualities. Yet 
neither can be compared to that first play through which 
one feels the throb of real life, and hears the voices of 
authentic human beings. The variety of characters 
and motives is beyond the dramatist's control in The 
Mineral Workers, while the absence of every dramatic 
element renders Family Failing as tiresome as its arti- 
ficiality is incredible. The degradation of a powerful 
theme was never more striking than in this dull farce, 
which might have been a great comedy. In the hands 
of a writer who could exploit the dramatic quality of 
the theme, — the demoralizing effect of laziness and 
improvidence upon all who are subjected to their 
influence, — a fine play would have resulted. As it 
is we must conclude that William Boyle had given his 
best when the early enthusiasm of the Fay's organ- 
ization stirred him to write The Building Fund. 

He has been encouraged to cater for the facile success 
of immediate popularity, which he and Lady Gregory 
alone, of all the earlier dramatists, share between them. 
The effect has been a gradual deterioration in the 
quality of the plays presented at the Abbey Theatre, 
accompanied by a corresponding decline in the nature 
of the audiences. Instead of educating public taste, 
everything is done to encourage people who come to be 
amused by an unusual spectacle, to get a change from 
the too familiar pleasures of the English drawing-room 
play and the musical comedies, which are the main 
part of England's contribution to the Irish stage. 
Comic effects are secured by decking out imbeciles 



LADY GREGORY AND WILLIAM BOYLE 141 

and brutes in the shreds and tatters of peasant speech, 
and the superficial violence of melodrama replaces the 
drama of character, which can only come from an 
inner life. There are still new dramatists, however, 
worthy of the best traditions of the National Theatre, 
as we shall see in the following chapter. 



CHAPTER VII 

Later Playwrights 

The reproaches made by competent critics against 
certain recent tendencies of the National Theatre are 
based mainly upon two points, the comparative or 
total neglect of the more serious writers, and the too 
frequent production of the same plays, most of which 
have only the most ephemeral interest. It seemed as 
if the dramatists subsequent to 1907, the year of The 
Playboy, were to enjoy prominence not only at the 
expense of their predecessors, but also to the detri- 
ment of the artistic standards and traditions of the 
Dramatic Movement. In 1908 the Abbey Theatre 
had become notorious and famous, and the date may 
be said to have marked the advent of a thhd phase in 
the history of the Revival. Samhain, the organ of the 
Theatre, ceased to appear, and, by a strange coinci- 
dence, the principles and theories for which it stood 
became perceptibly less noticeable in the work of the 
new playwrights. 

At the same time the withdrawal of Miss Horniman's 
subsidy made it difficult to proceed with that disregard 
for financial considerations which had been a source 
of much strength. Dramatists were given preference 

142 



LATER PLAYWRIGHTS 143 

when they combined a sufficient appearance of artistic 
worth with the qualifications Hkely to react favorably 
upon the receipts. Nevertheless, as a result of con- 
siderable criticism and controversy in the Irish press, 
a compromise was reached. New plays were pro- 
duced instead of the eternal comedies of Lady Gregory 
and William Boyle, and the melodramas of W. F. 
Casey, Lennox Robinson, and T. C. Murray made 
way for the works of men who had prior claims upon 
the attention of the public. The most remarkable 
writer thus saved from the oblivion which threatened 
him was George Fitzmaurice, whose plays were re- 
stored to the repertory of the Abbey Theatre a couple 
of years ago. 

1 

George Fitzmaurice 

When The Country Dressmaker was revived in 1912, 
the author had faded almost completely from the 
memory of all but the few who recognized the promise 
of the young dramatist when that play introduced him 
in 1907. In 1908 George Fitzmaurice followed up his 
first contribution with a second of slighter texture. 
The Pie-dish. This curious little piece in one act, 
which failed to secure the sympathies of an audience 
already in search of digestive amusement, was soon 
forgotten on the accession of the new regime of imita- 
tive peasant playwrights. It is not surprising, there- 
fore, that he should have waited for seven years before 
publishing his first play. Meanwhile, in spite of dis- 
couragement, Fitzmaurice had not been idle. In 1914 



144 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

The Country Dressmaker had scarcely appeared, when 
it was supplemented by a volume entitled Five Plays, 
containing The Aloonlighter, The Magic Glasses, and 
The Dandy Dolls, as well as the two plays already 
mentioned. 

As is the case in the best of our folk drama, The 
Country Dressmaker is contrived out of the simplest 
elements. Julia Shea, the sentimental dressmaker, has 
remained faithful through many years to Pats Connor, 
who went off to the United States to make his fortune. 
Julia is addicted to romantic fiction and jealously 
nurses her love for the absent Pats, whom she endows 
with all the virtues of the novelette hero. One day 
Connor arrives unexpectedly and learns, while asking 
for news of the old folk, how the dressmaker has 
waited for him. His astonishment is great, for he has 
never communicated with her, and was married in 
America without a thought for what he remembered 
as a boy and girl love affair. Then he is told how 
Julia has been fooled into believing that he loves her 
by hearing passages read out from letters which were 
never written. Connor is touched by this cruel trick 
and tries to live up to the part attributed to him, but not 
very successfully, as it seems to the romantic mind of 
Julia, who contrasts his changed appearance with the 
conditions portrayed in the novels. The intrigues of a 
neighbor with marriageable daughters almost ruin the 
prospects of Julia's marriage, but in the end she is 
reconciled to Pats Connor, and turns, with great natural 
dignity, from the imaginary world of fiction to accept 
the realities of everyday life. 



LATER PLAYWRIGHTS 145 

The play is packed with observation, and is brilliantly 
written, in an idiom rich with quaint terms, and delec- 
table vvords, which, nevertheless, differs fundamentally 
from the stereotyped " Kiltartanese " and its variants, 
to which so many writers have abandoned themselves. 
Here and there one is shocked by gross caricature, 
whose defects are emphasized by the faithful char- 
acterization of most of the figures in this perfect 
comedy of rural manners. Seldom has a first play 
shown such qualities of style and dramatic technique as 
The Country Dressmaker. The great development of the 
author's talent during the seven years which followed 
it did not surprise those who read Five Plays with a 
precise impression of Fitzmaurice's debut. For The 
Pie-dish gave a hint of that imaginative power w^hich we 
shall find to be the complement of the author's folk- 
realism. It dealt with the culminating moment in 
the struggle of an old man to obtain the satisfaction of 
his artistic instinct. Leum Donoghue has worked for 
years molding a pie-dish, a work in which the artist 
that is in him has found refuge from the incomprehen- 
sion of his humble surroundings. He is dying, and 
in fitful bursts of energy and consciousness demands to 
be allowed to finish his task. His children are more 
concerned to have the priest administer the last sacra- 
ments, but Leum craves only time to achieve his little 
masterpiece. The priest appeals to him in vain to 
prepare for the end, the artist refuses to surrender, and 
appeals to the devil, in default of God, to grant him 
the necessary respite. He will sell his soul for time in 
which to complete the pie-dish, and as he dies, with the 



146 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

blasphemy on his lips, his work falls from his hand and 
is shattered. Father Troy pronounces him damned, 
but his children are convinced that the idealism of their 
father will meet with a better fate. 

The Moonlighter is a more conventional type of play, 
and belongs to the same order as The Country Dress- 
maker, although its four acts are given over to tragedy 
rather than to comedy. As the title itself explains, the 
scene takes place during the troubled times of the agra- 
rian revolution in Ireland. Peter Guerin is a splendid 
type of the old Fenian, whose ardor is strong, though 
years have taught him prudence and limited his activity. 
The district is full of young fellows who are arming and 
training against the day when they must fight for their 
rights and liberties. Eugene, his son, is one of the most 
enthusiastic of the hotheads, whose constant parade 
of nationality arouses the skepticism of Guerin. The 
father opposes his son's ambition to join in a moon- 
lighting expedition against a neighboring farmer, and 
Eugene leaves home in defiance of Guerin's wishes. 
When he next comes upon the scene, he has been away 
in the city for a year, having fled at the last moment 
before the consequences of his desire to be a moon- 
lighter. Meanwhile outrages have been taking place, 
and his erstwhile companions are in conflict with the 
police. Eugene, however, has lost his sympathy with 
the methods of physical violence; all the claptrap 
which he used to utter for the benefit of his father has 
evaporated. The real man is revealed a craven time- 
server, without a spark of patriotic energy. When the 
moonlighters are pursued by the police, and one comes 



LATER PLAYWRIGHTS 147 

like a hunted animal to Guerin's house, Eugene has 
nothing but cautious advice to offer. The old Fenian^s 
spirit, however, is aroused, he rushes out to face the 
rifles of the police in an attempt to aid a young friend, 
whose courage has convinced Guerin that all the young 
men are not like Eugene, and that the soul of revolt 
still lives in a new generation. He is killed with the 
others, and Eugene is left to meet the contempt of his 
friend and family. 

Some of the typical violence of the new conventional 
peasant melodrama mars The Moonlighter^ but Fitz- 
maurice is too good a craftsman to succumb to mere 
formulae. He has made a penetrating study of the 
conditions which breed violence in peasant Ireland, 
and he depicts the knaves and braggarts with the same 
care as the patriotic idealists. Peter Guerin is a 
remarkable characterization, and though he necessarily 
has all the sympathy of an Irish audience, he must be 
recognized as a fine psychological portrait, equaled, 
perhaps, by Eugene. The play show^s a distinct ad- 
vance upon The Country Dressmaker in the contrivance 
and the manifestations of incident. In spite of its 
greater length, the interest is sustained to a moving 
climax. 

Together with an increasing technical skill, Fitz- 
maurice shows an ever greater command of picturesque 
and forcible idiom, which finds its maximum expression 
in The Magic Glasses and The Dandy Dolls. These 
two plays are in one act, and have neither the style nor 
the substance which would repay an attempt to sum- 
marize them. The former piece is a realistic fantasy, 



148 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

which relates to the world in which we live, but the 
latter is an exercise of pure fancy, situated beyond 
the limitations of human experience. The "magic 
glasses", which have bemused Jaymony Shanahan, be- 
long to the same order as the "dandy dolls" made by 
Roger Carmody, and both plays are the narrative of 
a wildly grotesque struggle against the forces of the 
supernatural. Whereas the witch-doctor who pro- 
fesses to cure Jaymony is a humorous idealization of 
the eternal charlatan, the Grey Man and Hag's Son 
who steal the windpipes from the throats of Carmody's 
dolls are creatures of the same race as the Trolls of 
Ibsen. There is also a suggestion of the Norwegian 
poet in The Magic Glasses, where the loft to which 
Jaymony retires in order to enjoy the fairy music 
reminds us of the garret in The Wild Duck, within whose 
shelter the old grandfather was transported to a world 
of the imagination. Similarly Shanahan is lured by 
the magic glasses, which bring him the oblivion of 
humdrum affairs which he desires. 

In the domain of pure fantasy George Fitzmaurice 
has only one rival. Lord Dunsany, while in the vigor 
and exuberance of his peasant speech he is surpassed 
by Synge, but unequaled by any other of the Irish 
dramatists. There is none of the poetry of Synge's 
language in Fitzmaurice's plays, but there is the 
same wealth of virile and vivid phrasing, in which every 
speech is "as fully flavoured as a nut or apple", to 
quote the preface to The Playboy. The "joyless and 
pallid words", which Synge condemned, find no place 
in what Fitzmaurice has written, though he never uses 



LATER PLAYWRIGHTS 149 

an expression traceable to any of his predecessors. 
The Anglo-Irish idiom as he employs it offers no anal- 
ogies either with Hyde and Synge or Lady Gregory, 
beyond the fact of their common source in Gaelic. He 
has made of peasant speech an original creation which, 
if not the potent instrument of Synge, is measurably 
finer than the monotonous "Kiltartanese*' and its 
minor variants, in vogue with the later playrvTights. 
George Fitzmaurice has, therefore, imagination and 
style of a sufficiently personal quality to give him rank 
as the greatest folk-dramatist since the death of J. M. 
Synge, and the practical withdrawal of Colum's plays 
from the cm-rent repertory of the Abbey Theatre. 



Seumas 0' Kelly 

If George Fitzmaurice were offered as an example 
of a WTiter first encouraged, and then neglected, by 
the directors of the National Theatre, Seumas O'Kelly 
is an instance of the contrary, his work having been 
recognized elsewhere before it found acceptance in 
that quarter. His first four plays. The Matchmakers, 
The Stranger, The Shuiler's Child, and The Homecoming 
were all produced by an amateur organization called 
"The Theatre of Ireland" before the directors of the 
Abbey Theatre realized his merits. The Matchmakers 
appeared in book form in 1908, and was reissued in 
1912, with the two other " one-acters ", under the 
title. Three Plays, Meanwhile The Shuiler's Child 
had been published in 1909, and the following year it 



150 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

became part of the repertory of the Irish Players, 
eighteen months after its first production. It was for 
some years the only work of Seumas O' Kelly played 
by them, until he wrote The Bribe, which they per- 
formed in 1913. One cannot refrain from wondering 
why none of his shorter pieces has been taken to relieve 
the monotony of repeated performances of the same 
curtain-raisers, necessitated by the requirements of 
the Abbey Theatre programs. Although they do not 
call for detailed exposition, The Stranger and The 
Homecoming are well entitled to consideration, dealing, 
as they do, with situations whose appeal to Irish au- 
diences is certain. 

It is strange that a work of such merit as The Shuiler's 
Child should so long escape the attention of W. B. Yeats 
and Lady Gregory, for, since they adopted it, no doubt 
has ever arisen as to the belated wisdom of their choice. 
The theme is one of renunciation, and lends itself to 
situations of great dramatic intensity, which only so 
talented an actress as Miss Maire nic Shiubhlaigh could 
have brought out adequately. Moll Woods, the shuiler, 
or tramp, singing from door to door, happens upon the 
cottage of the O'Heas, a childless couple who have 
adopted a little boy from the neighboring poorhouse. 
Moll at once recognizes the child as Phil, her son, whom 
she was obliged to abandon to public charity, and she 
longs to take him back. But the adopted parents have 
grown to love the youngster as their own, and are un- 
willing to part with him. The two w^omen, however, 
find themselves suddenly united by the arrival of an 
inspector sent out by the poorhouse authorities to see 



LATER PLAYWRIGHTS 151 

that the children of the institution are being well 
cared for by their foster parents. This official is not 
satisfied with Mrs. O'Hea's care of Phil, and threatens 
to remove the child. Then the shuiler, sinking her 
personal feelings, determines to save her son from such 
a fate. 

On her return to the poorhouse she demands admit- 
tance, and then claims the child whom she previously 
deserted. The authorities are legally bound to comply 
with this request, but once her son is restored to her, 
Moll Woods takes to the roads again, and comes back 
to the house of the O'Heas. The latter fear that the 
child is to accompany his mother in her vagabondage, 
and endeavor to find employment for Moll, so that 
even if the boy is torn from them, he will be close at 
hand and well cared for. At this juncture it transpires 
that the police have come to arrest the mother for 
having deserted her child. Then the shuiler's motives 
are understood ; she has formally admitted her relation 
to the boy in order to claim the sole right to dispose of 
him. Thereby she saves him from the interference of 
the authorities, but at the same time places herself 
within the reach of the law on the old charge of deser- 
tion. All her plans for regeneration are ruined, she 
sacrifices both her own prospects and the possession 
of her child, in order to insure his future in a good 
home. As the unfortunate woman stumbles out of the 
cottage, her hopeless prospects are clear to all who fore- 
see her ultimate release from prison and the drunkenness 
and vagabondage to which remorse and misery will 
condemn her. As portrayed by Miss Maire nic Shiubh- 



152 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

laigh, the tragic figure of Moll Woods was one of the 
most Diemorable in the history of the Irish Theatre. 

The Bribe conforms more nearly to the standard 
type of "Abbey play'', though Seumas O'Kelly has a 
talent of sufficient strength and individuality to save 
him from the banalities of the average peasant melo- 
dramatist. His subject is the corruptness of domestic 
politics, a much needed variation from the usual course 
of dramatizing the political struggle between England 
and Ireland. Not since the days of the Literary 
Theatre had there been a serious play dealing with 
this question, except an unpublished satire of municipal 
life by Fred Ryan, The Laying of the Foundation, which 
the Fays produced in 1902. As a rule political dis- 
honesty has furnished the material of comedy. 

There is no comedy in this somber picture of pro- 
vincial Ireland, whose central figure is John Kirwan, 
the chairman of the Garrymore Board of Guardians. 
It is the duty of this Board to elect a medical oflBcer for 
the district, and all the usual methods of influencing 
votes are brought to bear upon the members. Kirwan 
has resisted them all, even including the discreet offer 
of a cheque which would be of great help to him, a 
struggling shopkeeper. Mrs. Kirwan is incensed at 
his refusal to play the game of politics to his own ad- 
vantage, and urges various reasons why he should vote 
for Dr. O'Connor, rather than for Diamond, whom he 
personally esteems as the better candidate. Kirwan 
is unmoved by her arguments until he learns that she 
has borrowed a sum of money which O'Connor's prof- 
fered bribe would pay. In a moment of panic he 



LATER PLAYWRIGHTS 153 

pockets the bribe, and when the Board meets, his 
deciding vote goes against his old friend Dr. Diamond, 
who is too poor to buy support. Subsequently he 
pays for his dishonesty with the life of Mrs. Kirwan 
and her baby, who are lost through the incompetence 
of Dr. O'Connor, called in during the illness of the 
family physician. 

The denouement is rather obvious, but it is the only 
comparatively weak point in the play, which excels 
in the sober veracity of its uncompromising analysis 
of provincial manners, political and social. The second 
act, which takes place in the board-room of the 
Guardians, is well devised to reveal the sordid vulgarity 
of those upon whom the welfare of many a community 
depends. The specific case chosen by Seumas O'Kelly 
is perhaps the most typical, for such appointments as 
that of the dispensary doctor are notoriously corrupt 
in Ireland. Indeed, The Bribe, with its interrelation of 
the numerous influences for evil in our country towns, 
is a valuable document for all Irishmen. It is, at the 
same time, a dramatic play, which loses nothing by 
its careful respect for reality, but rather gains, on com- 
parison with the similar attempts of Lennox Robinson, 
T. C. Murray, and R. J. Ray. 

3 

Lord Bunsany 

Before examining the work of these representatives 
of popularity, we must glance at a dramatist of dis- 
tinction, whom the Abbey Theatre has had the honor 



154 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

of introducing to the English-speaking world. Next 
to his encouragement of Synge, the incident most to 
the credit of Yeats's management of the Irish Theatre 
was his immediate recognition of Dunsany's dramatic 
genius. Prior to 1909, when Tlie Glittering Gate was 
produced, Dunsany was known to a limited public as 
the author of three remarkable works of fantasy, 
The Gods of Pegana (1905), Time and the Gods (1906), 
and The Sword of Welleran (1908). In these he set 
forth that strange theogony which gave its title to 
the first, and whose mythology was elaborated in the 
second and third volumes. Instead of seeking his 
material in the legendary lore of his country, Dunsany 
invented his own myths and legends out of a wealth 
of original fancy unique in our time. Not content 
with having created a veritable hierarchy of gods to 
whom he intrusted the molding of cosmic destinies, 
the author made free use of the fabulous Orient which is 
the scene of his dramas, and whose description gives 
such poetic color to his prose. 

Having narrated the adventures of the deities of 
Pegana, and interpreted the ceaseless, mysterious 
struggle of the world against the onslaught of time 
and change, Dunsany was far from exhausting his 
imaginative vein. In A Dreamer's Tales (1910), The 
Book of Wonder (1912), and Fifty-one Tales (1915), 
he has continued to exercise his rare vision of a world 
none the less weird because peopled by men rather 
than by gods. These collections of short stories and 
fables possess all the qualities of the earlier works, but 
to the wonder and color of the mythological invention 



LATER PLAYWRIGHTS 155 

is added an element of the grotesque and horrible, 
unsurpassed by Poe and Ambrose Bierce at their best. 
A certain triviality mars many pages of Fifty-one Tales, 
but the two preceding volumes are almost perfect in 
their harmonious combination of every element of the 
fantastic imagination. The superiority of Lord Dun- 
sany is best appreciated when A D reamer^ s Tales is 
compared with the stories of Mr. Ai'thur Machen and 
Mr. Algernon Blackwood, the only writers of to-day 
who have tried to exploit the same field. 

The plays of Dunsany were collected in 1914 under 
the commonplace title, Five Plays, which included in 
order of their production The Glittering Gate, King 
Argimenes, The Gods of the Mountain, The Golden Doom, 
and The Lost Silk Hat. Since these were arranged 
for publication, two others have been produced. The 
Tents of the Arabs, in Paris in 1914, and A Night at 
the Inn, which had its premiere in New York in April, 
1915. The text of the latter has not yet been published, 
but the former appeared in The Smart Set, whose editors 
have done so much to make Dunsany familiar to the 
American public. All are written out of the author's 
earlier mood, except The Glittering Gate and The Lost 
Silk Hat, which come rather within the scope of his 
last volume of stories. 

When The Glittering Gate was produced at the Abbey 
Theatre in 1909, it was evident that a new force had 
come into the Dramatic Movement. The little play 
was simply a dialogue, but so original and unusual in 
conception that it impressed the audience more than 
perhaps a substantial drama would have done. Two 



156 THE CONTEMPOKARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

burglars, "both dead", stand before the great door of 
heaven, and by symbol and conversation the dramatist 
expounds their metaphysical beliefs. Their aspirations 
are exteriorized in the constantly descending beer 
bottles which they eagerly uncork, only to find them 
empty. Disappointment spurs them to reflections 
upon deity in general, and the failure of the door to 
open arouses their professional pride. After careful 
examination, they decide to apply their skill, and to 
force an entry into paradise. When the gates swing 
open, however, the burglars see nothing correspond- 
ing to their anticipation of heaven, only stars, 
"blooming great stars." With mocking laughter 
sounding in their ears, they conclude that such 
tricks are typical of malign providence, and that 
there is no heaven. 

Two years later this curtain-raiser was followed by 
Dunsany's second play. King Argimenes and the Un- 
known Warrior. The two acts of King Argimenes 
gave the true measure of his worth as a dramatist, and 
prepared the way for the succeeding dramas of the East. 
The enslaved King, Argimenes, is gnawing bones in 
the work-fields of King Darniak, together with other 
slaves. Their immediate desires are concentrated upon 
obtaining a substantial bone to satisfy their hunger. 
The opening lines of the play are startling : 

King Argimenes This is a good bone; there is juice 

in this bone. 
Zarb I wish I were you, Argimenes. 

King Argimenes I am not to be envied any longer. I 

have eaten up my bone. 



LATER PLAYWRIGHTS 157 

But even though hungry, Argimenes is still to be 
envied for his inner life, filled with memories of former 
grandeur and domination. He is thus endowed with 
an advantage over his fellow-slaves which they recog- 
nize ; he is of the master class. When he finds a sword 
in the field, and is thereby possessed of the symbol 
of power, he is impelled to impose his rank. His 
kingship is accepted by the others, who follow him and 
overthrow their common oppressor. The finding of 
the sword acquires the dignity of a miracle, and Argi- 
menes erects a temple to the Unknown Warrior on the 
spot where his weapon was found. 

As effective as the first words of King Argimenes is 
the closing scene of the play. The death of King Dar- 
niak's dog is announced, an animal whose good food 
had long been a source of envy among the slaves. 
While sick, he had given rise to much speculation among 
them as to whether his body would fall to their portion. 
Greatly they feared lest a lingering death deprive his 
bones of flesh. Great events have happened since such 
thoughts troubled the mind of Argimenes, but when 
the dog dies, the slave memory is still strong : 

King Argimenes and his men (savagely and hungrily) 

Bones ! 
King Argimenes (remembering what has happened and 

where he is) Let him be buried with the late King. 
Zarb (in voice of protest) Majesty I 

Lord Dunsany's longest and best drama is The Gods 
of the Mountain, whose theme is again in the truest 
vein of the author who invented the theogony of Pegana. 
Six beggars and a thief impersonate the seven gods of 



158 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

Marma, "carved out of green jade", who sit upon the 
mountain top, " with their right elbows resting on their 
left hand, the right forefinger pointing upwards." The 
portrayal of these adventurers is perfect in the ease 
with which their mentality is developed, their cunning 
aroused, and its effects unrolled before us. Extrava- 
gant though it be, the situation convinces the imagina- 
tion carried away by the excitement of the enterprise, 
the pose of the beggars in the attitude of the gods, and 
the gradual belief of the people in the imposture. The 
pretenders are afraid that the jade deities will be found 
in their accustomed place, but their uneasiness in- 
creases when it is discovered that the green gods have 
left their site on the mountain. They do not know 
whether to regard this discovery as a sign of popular 
credulity, and a proof of their own success. Strange 
phenomena are witnessed at night, and it is evident that 
the gods are present. As one man says: "When we 
see rock walking it is terrible .... rock should not 
walk. When children see it, they do not understand. 
Rock should not walk in the evening." 

Then the beggars are seriously disturbed, but the 
people have lost all their doubts and believe the gods 
have come to them. In truth, they have descended 
upon the city to punish the impostors. It is a wonder- 
ful climax when the stone beings enter, point their 
fingers at the beggars, and petrify them in the tradi- 
tional attitude of the gods. When the worshippers ar- 
rive and find the beggars are really of stone, they are 
convinced of divinity and reproach themselves with their 
former skepticism. The irony of this conclusion is 



LATER PLAYWRIGHTS 159 

delightful, and typical of the whimsical humor of Lord 
Dunsany. It is significant that his greatest success 
should have been achieved by the play nearest to his 
best narrative writing. Compressed to meet the exigen- 
cies of the theatre, The Gods of the Mountain contains 
the quintessence of Dunsany. 

In The Golden Doom the dramatist returned to the 
one-act form, which is, indeed, sufficient for the rather 
tenuous subject of the play. A child's rhjTiie scribbled 
with a piece of gold on the King's door brings all the 
prophets and wise men to interpret what they believe 
to be a message from the gods. Two children wrote 
the lines innocently while waiting at the door to beg 
for a hoop, but the soothsayers read into the words the 
impending doom of their master, who leaves his crown 
and scepter as an offering to appease the gods. In the 
evening the children return, and finding a golden hoop 
and stick, take them in the belief that their prayer for 
these playthings has been answered. When the King 
and his advisers observe the disappearance of their 
sacrificial offerings, they accept the omen as a sign 
that the gods are pleased, and will stay the doom which 
w^as to fall upon them. Thus wisdom and innocence 
are equally satisfied by an occasion propitious to the 
exercise of their respective credulities. 

The fable is charming, but thoroughly Yeatsian in 
its lack of specifically dramatic interest. Not so The 
Lost Silk licit, whose undramatic quality is not com- 
pensated byvany such delicacy of fancy. It is definitely 
of that grotesque order which has become more pro- 
nounced in Dunsany's latest stories, but whose most 



160 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

powerful expression belongs to an earlier date. The 
interest centers about the efforts of a gentleman to 
persuade various persons of humbler rank to retrieve 
his tall hat from beneath the sofa of a drawing-room 
where he has just been visiting. His precipitous re- 
treat, we learn, was due to his having quarreled with 
his hostess, to whom he was engaged to be married. 
The dialogue alone supports the movement of the play. 
The Laborer, the Clerk, and the Poet each engage in a 
discussion as to why they should rescue the hat, and, 
for reasons most humorously indicated, each refuses. 
The poet endeavors to fix the gentleman's mind upon 
the romantic aspect of the situation, and failing that, 
demands adequate proofs of the reasonableness of 
fetching the hat. His final disgust, when the gentle- 
man, renouncing romance, enters the house and re- 
mains to play a duet on the piano, is equaled only by 
the emotions of the Laborer when listening to the 
discourses and arguments of the poet and the owner 
of the missing article. These characterizations make 
excellent comedy, though they do not add materially 
to Lord Dunsany's position as a dramatist. 

That his work for the stage is by no means exhausted 
was made clear by the appearance of the two plays not 
yet included in his published volume. The Tents of 
the Arabs is an interesting variation upon an ancient 
theme, and, at the same time, a return to the subject 
of the mysterious call of the desert, which has inspired 
so many eloquent pages in Dunsany's stories. The 
story relates how a King longs for freedom to follow 
the caravan setting out across the desert to Mecca, 



LATER PLAYWRIGHTS 161 

and of his final escape against the wishes of his coun- 
sellors. Forgetful of royalty and of the affairs of 
state, he lingers a year in the desert, and when the 
second act opens we find him on the point of resuming 
the slavery of his kingly ofiice. But during his pro- 
tracted absence, rumor has it that he has perished, so 
that one of the two camel drivers, who were previously 
heard regretting the toil of their calling, is emboldened 
to claim the throne. His resemblance to the King 
helps him, but the servants of state are skeptical, and 
demand that Bel-Narb produce some witness of his 
claim, other than his fellow conspirator, Aoob. At 
this juncture the King, still clothed in the camel-driver's 
cloak which he wore in the desert, comes to the im- 
postor's assistance. Seeing a unique opportunity to 
obtain permanent liberty, he testifies that Bel-Narb is 
in truth the King who departed into the desert twelve 
months previously. The latter is received by the 
people, and though he offers employment in the palace 
to the late King, his proposal is rejected. The King 
wants nothing in return for his abdication but freedom 
to rejoin the tents of the Arabs. 

A Night at the Inn left the impression of being equal 
to The Gods of the Mountain, which it resembles in 
the wonder and horror of its effect. Three sailors, the 
survivors of a party which had stolen a great ruby 
from the forehead of an Indian god, have been awaiting 
some undefined event in a lonely inn for three days 
and three nights. The place has been rented by a 
dilapidated gentleman to whom they have intrusted 
the precious stone. It is his purpose to destroy in this 



162 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

lonely spot the priests who have dogged the sailors' 
footsteps since they left India, and have already taken 
mortal vengeance on the two of their companions in 
the theft. Sitting with a newspaper in his hand, the 
gentleman hopes to lure the priests to his attack, so 
that the sailors may fall upon them and kill them. And 
so it happens. One by one the three priests enter 
stealthily, and one by one they are stabbed to death. 

The three sailors are delighted at this outcome of 
their confidence in the gentleman who has so well 
arranged affairs that they shall enjoy the proceeds of 
their crime. Drinking and toasting, the four adven- 
turers are celebrating their victory, v/hen their doom 
comes upon them. Stony footfalls are heard, and 
soon the guilty men are cowering before the horrible, 
grotesque jade god, who stamps up to the table, puts 
the precious ruby in his forehead, and walks out on 
the lonely moor. Once outside, he calls in dreadful 
tones to the sailors and their partner to follow him, 
and as each is named, he is dragged out by some irre- 
sistible force. Finally the far-seeing gentleman of 
fortune obeys the call he had not anticipated, and the 
inn is occupied only by the bodies of the murdered 
priests. 

Lord Dunsany is the only worthy successor of Yeats 
in the history of the Irish Theatre up to the present, 
for he alone has broken with the tradition of peasant 
drama, and has written plays whose poetry is not con- 
cealed by the fact that his medium is prose. For that 
reason, and because of his mythological and legendary 
inventiveness, Dunsany seems, to the superficial glance, 



LATER PLAYWRIGHTS 163 

to be outside the so-called Irish "school", — that 
popular fiction. He chose Pegana, and the fab- 
ulous cities of Babbulkund and Perdondaris, in- 
stead of Celtic Ireland and its heroic figures, but his 
adventures are as stirring to the imagination as any 
recounted by Gaelic legend. His work, both drama 
and narrative prose, is part of that rekindling of the 
flame which has invested the Irish world with the glow 
of Celtic vision. The marvels he describes are often 
but the simplest natural phenomena seen through the 
eyes of a poet, and they take on the glamour and mys- 
tery which the Celt has at all times descried in nature. 
His greatest genius has been revealed in his tales of 
gods and men, but his contribution to the drama is 
sufficiently original and important to make the name of 
a lesser man. The Abbey Theatre is justly proud of 
its share in making known a writer of so rare a quality. 
It is such discernment which makes it easy to forget 
certain sins of omission and commission with which 
this chapter must close. 

4 

Melodramatists and Others 

Of the host of recruits to the ranks of the "Abbey" 
playwTights in recent years little need be said. Most 
of them can write a very creditable melodrama, in 
which all the peasant formulae are employed to good 
effect. Many of the cliches of the Boucicault have 
been abolished, and his situations are frequently re- 
versed, to the great joy of such commentators as Mr. 



164 THE CONTEMPORAKY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

Bernard Shaw, who imagines that this fact is evidence 
of lack of old-fashioned patriotism. The process which 
he recently described as "damning the romantic Old 
Ireland up hill and down dale" is the modern con- 
vention which has replaced the sentimental heroics of 
an earlier day. Neither is anything more than what 
the French term un poncif, a stereotyped formula, 
which may or may not correspond to any genuine emo- 
tion in the writer. The newer convention finds con- 
stant employment at the hands of such playwrights 
as W. F. Casey, R. J. Ray, T. C. Murray, and Lennox 
Robinson, whose work is familiar to all who have seen 
the performances of the Irish Players, at home or 
abroad. There is nothing reprehensible in the cul- 
tivation of native melodrama, and most playgoers 
will prefer R. J. Ray's Gombeen Man to Arrah na Pogue 
or The Colleen Bawn. But it is as unnecessary to 
analyze such work as it is undesirable to give it the 
prominence which it has latterly obtained in the reper- 
tory of the Abbey Theatre. 

The poet A. E. described an unpleasantly large 
number of recent Irish plays when he wrote : " We have 
developed a new and clever school of Irish dramatists 
who say they are holding up the mirror to Irish peasant 
nature, but they reflect nothing but decadence. They 
delight in the broken lights of insanity, the ruffian 
who beats his wife, the weakling who is unfortunate in 
love, and who goes and drinks himself to death." The 
specific references are clearly to W. F. Casey's The Man 
who missed the Tide and to The Cross Roads by Lennox 
Robinson. Physical suffering, murder, and even pesti- 



LATER PLAYWRIGHTS 165 

lence, — among cattle, at least, — are the familiar 
expedients by which our playwrights try to escape the 
artificial inanities of the successful play of commerce. 
By an irony of fate, this violent reaction has merely 
resulted in very often substituting these plays with 
cheap effects for the restrained and careful work of the 
genuine realists. 

Lennox Robinson is perhaps the most important of 
these writers, for he has shown himself capable of good 
work. The plays, however, through which he became 
known, are typical illustrations of the melodramatic 
tendency. The Cross Roads (1909) is merely a series 
of violent scenes without much coherence. We are 
asked to believe that a woman who marries a man she 
does not love brings a curse upon his farm. . The tragic 
effect of being untrue to oneself is undoubtedly a 
theme with dramatic possibilities, but it is too much to 
postulate that such a failure should react upon the 
fertilizing properties of manure, the laying capacity 
of hens, and produce disease among cattle. Yet if 
we do not accept this, the play loses all its effect. In- 
stead of sensing the tragedy of the situation, we are 
trying to see in the denouement any connection with 
what has gone before. The dramatist's next attempt, 
while more coherent, was almost as unconvincing. 
Harvest (1910) deals with the problem of education as 
it affects those whose social condition is not considered 
by the authorities when drawing up their plans. The 
consequence of training the mind until it is no longer 
adapted to its natural environment, while a new outlet 
for its activities is lacking, provides in Harvest an excuse 



166 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

for a banal story of seduction, in which the heroine 
talks the language of old-fashioned melodrama. The 
characters all are the lifeless mouthpieces of old for- 
mulae, and fail to convey the dramatist's intention. 

Strange to say, the first play which Lennox Robinson 
gave to the Abbey Theatre was better than the two 
which insured his popularity. The Clancy Name 
(1908), within the short space of one act, contained 
more humanity than either of its successors. The 
pride of name in Mrs. Clancy, which made her try to 
dissuade her son from giving himself up to justice, was 
a motive which the author was able to develop sym- 
pathetically, and which inspired the protagonists with 
the breath of life. When the youth rushes out to 
confess his crime to the police, a fine spiritual conflict 
between the pair has been witnessed, but when we 
learn that he has been killed while trying to save a 
child from the hoofs of a runaway horse, we feel that 
the dramatist has chosen too facile an escape from the 
dilemma. 

His recent plays are concerned with more serious 
and substantial subjects. Patriots (1912) is an in- 
teresting picture of the supposedly changed attitude 
of a younger generation of patriots towards the ques- 
tion of Irish freedom, and the means by which it 
should be secured. The desertion of the returned 
political prisoner by men more interested in reformist 
and Parliamentary methods gave rise to a tragedy 
whose poignancy is weakened only by the thought that 
the prestige of Nugent and his insurrectionary faith 
has been underestimated. The superficiality of the 



LATER PLAYWRIGHTS 167 

author^s estimate of the psychology of the new genera- 
tion has now been demonstrated with fearful force. 
His own colleagues and contemporaries have been 
executed for doing what his play argued was impossible. 
Within a week of Lennox Robinson's debut at the Abbey 
Theatre in 1908, When tJie Dawn is Come, by the late 
Thomas MacDonagh, was produced. Little more than 
a melancholy interest attaches to this unsuccessful 
attempt to dramatize an aspect of a situation identical 
with that in which MacDonagh was to lose his life. 
It is significant, however, that the dramatist who was 
to die should have conceived precisely the contrary 
circumstances to those depicted by the writer of 
Patriots. 

Nevertheless the modification of certain political 
views is a fact of contemporary Irish life, as witness 
the comparatively favorable reception of The Dreamers, 
which appeared in 1915. Here Lennox Robinson makes 
his first attempt at historical drama, by choosing the 
final episode in the career of Robert Emmet. Instead, 
however, of treating the subject in the traditional ideal- 
istic manner, he presents a very depressing account of 
the rising and of those who participated in it. Emmet 
alone stands out as a man wholly devoted to the cause 
of Ireland and prepared to risk everything for success. 
His followers are shown to be shiftless, untrustworthy, 
and even dishonest, and are made largely responsible 
for his failure and death. The play is well constructed 
and bears the marks of careful planning and execution, 
but it is not easy to accept the author's view of the 
causes which led to the collapse of the rebeUion. He 



168 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OP IRELAND 

is too readily disposed to color the facts in deference 
to political prejudice. The tolerance extended to this 
treatment of an almost hallowed subject indicated that 
lessening of political tension which at one time promised 
to change the nature of the Irish question. The re- 
newal of just such a tragedy as Emmet's suggests a 
return to conditions on the point of becoming a memory. 

T. C. Murray and R. J. Ray have both contributed 
to the popular repertory of the Abbey Theatre. The 
former has published only two plays, Birthright (1911) 
and Maurice Harte (1912), neither of which has more 
than a passing interest. The same is true of The White 
Feather (1909), The Casting out of Martin Whelan (1910), 
and The Gombeen Man (1913), by R. J. Ray, none of 
which has been issued in book form. While T. C. 
Murray has the same predilection for violent scenes as 
R. J. Ray, he does not bathe his work in such unrelieved 
gloom and incredible brutality as distinguish The White 
Feather and The Gombeen Man. The last mentioned 
is a particularly typical example of a theme utterly 
ruined by bad writing and worse psychology. The 
drama of this sinister figure in Irish life, the money- 
lender of the village, is so tangible and moving that only 
a playwright like Padraic Colum could evoke it. In 
all its unadorned power he could project the subject 
into literature, for he alone possesses that sound in- 
stinct and knowledge of peasant life which would 
eliminate the extraneous and unnecessary elements, 
whose exaggerations are deemed necessary by the imita- 
tive realists. 

The weakness of the later dramatists is that they are 



LATER PLAYWRIGHTS 169 

imitators rather than innovators; they have added 
nothing to the folk-drama as defined by Synge and 
Colum, for they have not even emulated Lady Gregory 
in her folk-history tragedies and comedies. Praise 
is due to such occasional experimentalists as Norreys 
Connell, whose one-act play, The Piper (1908), and 
"imaginary conversation," Time (1909), were seen for 
a brief period some years ago. The newcomers whose 
work has not yet been published show few signs of 
wishing to contribute something really personal to 
the repertory of the Irish Theatre, with the exception 
of A. P. Wilson's study of industrial life. The Slough 
(1914), and perhaps The Cuckooes Nest of John Guinan. 
But the latter has been followed by The Plough- 
Lifters, a conventional comedy a la Boyle, labored 
and unconvincing. It seems as if the days of peasant 
realism were nearly over, for the geure has become con- 
ventionalized to the point of inanition. It is true, Ire- 
land is entitled to have national equivalents for even the 
worst banalities of the imported English drama. The 
most commonplace farce or melodrama is rarely quite 
so futile as its English counterpart, but the Irish Theatre 
is capable of better things. How it shall continue to 
realize its original purpose will be suggested when we 
have concluded our present survey. 



CHAPTER VIII 
The Ulster Literary Theatre 



Origins and Environment 

Probably because it has had no corporate existence 
comparable to that of the Abbey Theatre, the Ulster 
Literary Theatre has escaped the attention of all for- 
eign critics of the Dramatic Revival in Ireland. They 
have discussed the Ulster playwrights without refer- 
ence to the circumstances in which the latter have 
developed, confounding the movement which gave them 
birth with the numerous amateur organizations, the 
"Theatre of Ireland", the "Leinster Stage Society", 
the "National Players", and the "Gaelic Repertory 
Theatre ", whose useful work in fostering Irish drama 
cannot be overestimated. Nevertheless, the Ulster 
Theatre is distinguished from all these by reason of its 
having given birth to a group of wTiters whose relation 
to Ulster is more intimate than mere literary association 
in a given dramatic organization would imply. The 
regionalism of the Northern dramatists corresponds to 
a definite condition of Irish geography. One might 
say that if the Ulster Literary Theatre did not exist, 

170 



THE ULSTER LITERARY THEATRE 171 

it would be necessary to invent it. The Ulster play- 
wrights are entitled to be considered apart from their 
Southern contemporaries, even when they have not 
been identified specifically with the literary movement 
in Belfast. 

The origins of the Ulster Literary Theatre date back 
to 1902, when the Belfast Protestant National Society 
decided to widen its hitherto purely political activities 
by cooperating in the work of the brothers Fay. The 
latter had just been constituted the successors of the 
Irish Literary Theatre, and with the assistance of some 
of their associates, two of the plays, Cathleen ni Houli- 
han and The Racing Lug by James Cousins, were pro- 
duced in Belfast. The effect of this experiment was to 
strengthen the general determination to give Ulster a 
share in the Dramatic Revival. After A. E.'s Deirdre 
was performed in Dublin, it was taken to Belfast, and 
in 1904 the Ulster Literary Theatre came into exist- 
ence. The inaugural season began in December of 
that year, when a poetic drama of the heroic age, Brian 
of Banba by Bulmer Hobson, and The Reformers, a 
satire of municipal politics by Lewis Purcell, introduced 
two new playwrights, both members of the Belfast 
Protestant National Society. 

At the same time the first issue of Uladh appeared, 
containing a manifesto of the Ulster Theatre, and for 
a short time this review was the Northern counterpart 
of Beltaine and Samhain. Li its pages, as in those of 
the latter, were published plays from the repertory of 
the Theatre, and in the first number appeared The 
Little Cowherd of Slainge, a dramatic legend by Joseph 



172 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

Campbell, who has since become one of the most 
notable of the young Irish poets. This little piece, and 
The Enthusiast by Lewis Purcell, were produced the 
following year, and contributed to the strength of the 
new enterprise, especial favor being accorded to Pur- 
cell's drama of the conflict between Catholic and 
Protestant, in which a young idealist's failure to recon- 
cile orange and green provided the motive. In 1906 
the Ulster Theatre firmly established its claim to serious 
attention by producing The Pagan by Lewis Purcell and 
The Turn of the Road by Rutherford Mayne. These 
were the first Ulster plays to be issued in permanent 
form, having been published in 1907. 

The Pagan is still the only work of Lewis Purcell 
available to the reading public. It is a rather curious 
attempt to extract comedy from the rivalry of Pagan 
and Christian in sixteenth-century Ireland. A young 
girl of the new faith is pursued by many suitors, but 
finally selects a Pagan as the man of her choice, after 
many diverting scenes. It is a pity that the author 
has placed no more substantial evidence of his talent 
on record, but the same is true of the Ulster play- 
wrights in general. Satirical humor, as in this instance, 
seems to be a dominant characteristic of the Ulster 
group. 

Those who have seen Thompson in Tir-na-n^Og and 
When the Mist does he on the Bog, by the writer who signs 
himself "Gerald MacNamara", — the Ulster drama- 
tists are almost all pseudonymous, — can testify to the 
intensely comic sense displayed by the author. The 
choice of the Abbey Theatre for the first production of 



THE ULSTER LITERARY THEATRE 173 

the last named play gave a piquancy to this good- 
humored parody of Synge. But none of this work, 
serious or otherwise, has been published in book form, 
so that little remains upon which to base an estimate 
of the Ulster Theatre. Of those associated with that 
undertaking from the beginning only Rutherford Mayne 
has collected his work for publication. 

Joseph Campbell, it is true, has published one play, 
as did Lewis Purcell, but Judgment (1912) was not 
written for the Ulster Theatre; it was produced in 
Dublin by the Irish Players. It is a study of man- 
ners among the peasantry of Donegal, and is per- 
meated by that intimate acquaintance with the region 
which Campbell's prose and poetry had previously 
revealed. 

Those who read his record of a tramp in Donegal, 
Hearing Stones (1911), recognized in the play many 
echoes of those impressionistic notes of scenes and con- 
versations witnessed while on the road. The action 
centers about the silent protagonist. Peg Straw, an 
old and half-demented vagabond, who dominates the 
situation after the fashion of those invisible forces of 
Maeterlinckian symbolism. Owen Ban, the weaver, 
admits to his home the outcast, whom his wife, Nabla, 
has turned away, but not until the greater part of the 
first act has passed in conversation relating to this ab- 
sent figure, who unwittingly gives rise to the movement 
of the drama. The cries of the poor creature being 
beaten by other tramps are the signal for her ultimate 
appearance, for it is then that the weaver disregards 
his wife's scruples ; but Peg crosses his threshold only 



174 THE CONTEMPOKARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

to die as a result of her injuries. And as this one life 
is extinguished, another is awakened, when Nabla gives 
premature birth to a child in consequence of the shock 
of Peg's death. 

In the second act the old woman is laid out for the 
"wake" which is accorded to even the humblest by Irish 
peasant custom. The primitive wildness of the death 
feast is depicted by one familiar with local manners, 
and gives a tragic horror to the scene, which is increased 
by the arrival of a wandering stranger, who boister- 
ously disturbs the mourners. In a quarrel he reveals 
his identity as the son whom popular legend supposed 
Peg Straw to have killed when he was an infant. 
Thereupon he is ejected from the house, and denied the 
privilege of "waking" his dead mother, a summary 
judgment upon him for his neglect, and a tragedy in 
the eyes of a peasantry to whom death and the family 
are the profoundest facts of life. 

The technical faults of Judgment are so obvious as 
to require no insistence, yet it is a more valuable addi- 
tion to the Irish Theatre than most of the relatively 
well-constructed plays of late years. It is a genuine 
folk tragedy, deeply rooted in the soil, and characterized 
by a perfect control of peasant idiom. A sincere sym- 
pathy for his people and a deep insight into the manners 
of the Ulster countryside differentiate Joseph Camp- 
bell from those whose sole concern is to adapt the 
peasant convention to the banalities of superficial melo- 
drama. When he has added a stronger sense of the 
theatre to his other equipment, he may well rank with 
the foremost dramatists. 



THE ULSTER LITERARY THEATRE 175 



The Plays of Rutherford Mayne 

It is fortunate that Rutherford Mayne should be the 
one leader of the Ulster Theatre by whose work we are 
enabled to measure its significance, for he is not only 
the best of the Ulster playwrights, but one of the finest 
talents revealed by the Dramatic Movement. His 
first play, The Turn of the Road, was followed in 1908 
by The Drone, which was also performed by the Ulster 
Literary Theatre Society, as almost all this dramatic 
work has been, with the exception of The Troth and one 
unpublished sketch. In 1912 a collected edition, under 
the title of The Drone and other Plays, brought together 
his most important writings, The Turn of the Road, 
The Drone, The Troth, and Red Turf. Since then he 
has written an electioneering farce. If!, which was pro- 
duced at the Abbey Theatre in 1915, but whose pub- 
lication is doubtful, if one may judge by his failure to 
reprint his previous essays outside the field of serious 
folk drama. 

The Turn of the Road tells the story of Robbie John 
Granahan's attempt to stifle the artistic impulse, in 
obedience to the combined puritanism and practical 
"good sense" of his friends and relatives. They would 
rather he married a girl with a good dowry and settle 
down as a respectable farmer than pursue the fame 
which his fiddle promises him. He burns his instru- 
ment, but cannot forget the prize awarded to him at 
the Feis, or Gaelic musical contest, where his judges 



176 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

promised him a fine career. Granahan is not impelled 
by the instinct of vagabondage which drove Colum's 
Conn Hourican on to the roads. A canny Ulsterman, 
he has a more precisely material advantage to tempt 
him than the satisfaction of his artistic temperament. 
Rutherford Mayne has well described the community 
of well-to-do Protestants, whose opposition to the 
musician makes such an interesting contrast to the 
motives at work in The Fiddler's House. Although in 
both plays the artist escapes to fulfill his destiny, all 
that separates the North of Ireland from the remaining 
provinces is suggested in the development and atmos- 
phere of the two versions of the same problem. 

When The Drone was originally played by the Ulster 
Theatre Society, it was in two acts, but a third act was 
added when it was revised for publication. Of the 
purely naturalistic comedies it is supreme in its simple 
humor and charming portrayal of rural manners. The 
fun of Lady Gregory's farces seems wholly on the sur- 
face when compared with this play, which achieves 
triumphantly the purpose of William Boyle's Family 
Failing. Daniel Murray has pretended for years that 
he is working upon an invention which will repay his 
debt for their continued hospitality. The truth is, 
this delightful old humbug has never done anything but 
idle away his days in dreaming. A Scotsman, skeptical 
as is the wont of his race, demands proofs of Murray's 
inventiveness, and in spite of the latter's amusing sub- 
terfuges, shows him up as an impostor. The drone, 
however, succeeds eventually in cheating his victims 
by selling them the bellows which he claims to have 



THE ULSTER LITERARY THEATRE 177 

invented, and nobody will question the justice of his 
success, so finely imagined is this character. His charm 
stands out against the background of harshness and 
grasping frugality supplied by a typical group of 
County Down peasants. 

Both The Troth and Red Turf are one-act plays having 
agrarian crime as their motive. The former describes 
how Protestant and Catholic unite against their 
common enemy, the landlord who threatens them with 
eviction. Ebenezer McKie and Francey Moore deter- 
mine to shoot Colonel Fotheringham, and pledge them- 
selves that whichever of the two is arrested shall not 
reveal the identity of his comrade. A shot is heard 
and McKie returns, his demeanor indicating that the 
innocent man has been caught by the police. In an 
agony of fear he waits while his wife watches through 
the window, and when a neighbor calls to tell of the 
mad deed of Francey Moore he shrinks from her glance. 
To Mrs. McKie's question, which is an accusation, he 
can only reply : "Peace, woman, Moore has no wife." 
This brief glimpse of another side of the Ulster question 
is interesting, not only because of its unique place in 
Mayne's studies of the North Irish peasantry, but also 
on account of its indication of a fundamental unity be- 
tween those traditionally depicted as irreconcilable. 

The scene of Red Turf is Galway, where, of course, 
every variety of agrarian outrage is deemed natural ! 
But this violent anecdote strains the imagination, even 
though it takes place on the happy hunting ground of 
the pseudo-Synge "realists." The murder of one peas- 
ant by another, in a quarrel over a bank of turf, is too 



178 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

essentially in the "Abbey" convention to provide seri- 
ous drama. Strong language and violence, the famil- 
iar ingredients, are substituted for thought and action. 
Yet critics have been found, both here and in Ireland, 
who profess to regard Red Turf as inspired by the study 
of Synge, though, to do them justice, the Irish comments 
to this effect have come from the avowed enemies of 
The Playboy! 

Rutherford Mayne does not need to write in this 
manner, as disastrous to his own reputation as to that 
of the commentators, who have gravely attributed it to 
the example of Synge. His permanent place in our 
contemporary dramatic literature has been, and will 
be, insured by those studies of North Ireland peasant 
life which he has preserved in the atmosphere and 
idiom of Ulster. He evokes the subtle characteristics 
of the one as he has mastered the Biblical rhythms of 
the other. With the assistance of the Ulster Players, 
his work has done for the North of Ireland what 
Synge has done for the West, for the true originality 
of his achievement is best appreciated in the per- 
formances of the Ulster Theatre Society. The setting, 
speech, and acting combine to impress upon the spec- 
tator the peculiar and individual character of the Ul- 
sterman and his environment. Without such aflGilia- 
tions the scope of the Irish Theatre would be incom- 
plete. The work of Rutherford Mayne has, therefore, 
a general as well as a specific value, for it serves to crys- 
tallize the scattered elements of the Dramatic Move- 
ment in Ulster, which is fortunate indeed in possessing 
a representative dramatist of such high quality. 



THE ULSTER LITERARY THEATRE 179 



St. John G. Ervine 

There are no indications that the supremacy of 
Rutherford Mayne as the leading Ulster playwright 
will be challenged, in spite of the advent of a newcomer 
in that field. St. John G. Ervine, though an Ulster- 
man writing of North Ireland, does not attach himself 
to the movement which has brought Ulster into the 
Dramatic Movement. In fact, his participation in the 
work of the Irish Theatre has been so recent that one 
cannot regard his work as an integral part of that im- 
pulse towards national self-expression in literature and 
drama, of which the writers heretofore mentioned 
are the instruments. St. John Ervine did not identify 
himself with the aspirations and aims of his Irish con- 
temporaries, but preferred to seek in England the op- 
portunities offered by a wider public to talented journal- 
ism. It was not until the Irish Plays had become a 
popular amusement in London and elsewhere that his 
first play was produced by them. The immediate suc- 
cess of Mixed Marriage in 1911 seemed to confirm the 
wisdom of this retarded entry upon the Irish scene. 

Since that date the dramatist has been doubled by 
the novelist, for, as the author of Mrs. Martin's Man, 
St. John G. Ervine has been greeted w^ith much en- 
thusiasm, and it seemed as if the novel which the 
Literary Revival has so long awaited had been written. 
Critical examination of the book, however, soon showed 
that it was no better than most of the popular fiction 



180 THE CONTEMPOEARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

which has had Ireland for its setting in recent years. 
The Literary Revival has failed to produce a novelist 
comparable to the poets and dramatists to whom 
we owe our literary renascence. James Stephens alone 
has written prose stories informed by that imaginative 
beauty which is the reflection of the Celtic spirit. But 
neither The Crock of Gold nor The Demi-Gods conforms 
to the accepted form of the novel, and even The Char- 
woman's Daughter, for all its apparent conformity to 
the rules of the genre, is essentially a work of delicate 
fantasy. 

The superiority of Stephens in the domain of Irish 
fiction lies in the intimate relation between his vision 
and the genius of the race. Mrs. Martin's Man is a 
novel, but it is not an Irish novel, in any proper sense 
of the term. It might have been written by an English- 
man, so little does it bear the imprint of the national 
spirit. That it was written out of no profound impulse, 
but was purely fortuitous in its choice of an Ulster set- 
ting, seemed clearly established on the publication of 
Alice and a Family. Here the author turned with equal 
facility to the lower classes of South London, and pro- 
duced an amalgam of the sentimental idealizations of 
Dickens at his worst and Mr. Pett Ridge at his best. 
While some remnants of sincerity marked the external 
presentation of the Ulster story, the mechanical compo- 
sition of humor and pathos marked its successor a de- 
liberate piece of bookmaking. 

As a dramatist, St. John G. Ervine owes his reputa- 
tion to his first play, Mixed Marriage, which was pub- 
lished in the Abbey Theatre Series in 191L Since 



THE ULSTER LITERARY THEATRE 181 

that date four other Irish plays by him have been 
performed : The Magnanimous Lover , The Critics ^ The 
Orangeman, and John Ferguson. All these were issued 
in a collected edition in 1914, except John Ferguson, 
which was produced and published a year later. They 
do not represent his complete dramatic works, for he 
has shown the same versatility in his choice of sub- 
ject for the theatre as for the novel. Jane Clegg 
(1914), which was played in Manchester and London, 
is a typical study of middle-class English life, in the 
manner of Stanley Houghton or D. H. Laurence, show- 
ing that the author is not very deeply rooted in his 
native soil, either as a novelist or a playT\Tight. In 
fact, until he recently became manager of the Abbey 
Theatre, nobody suspected him of any desire to be more 
definitely associated with the intellectual movement of 
his country than is Mr. Bernard Shaw. 

The favorable impression made by Mixed Marriage 
was largely due to the topical nature of the problem 
presented, and to the justice of the dramatist's treat- 
ment of a theme easily susceptible of distortion. The 
irrepressible conflict of Catholic and Protestant in the 
North of Ireland had already been dramatized by Lewis 
Purcell in The Enthusiast, but that forgotten one-act 
play did not grip the popular imagination as did Mixed 
Marriage. St. John Ervine contrived to compress 
within four acts all the various ramifications of that 
religious bigotry which has served politicians more use- 
fully than it has served Ulster or Ireland. 

John Rainey is described as an Orangeman of at 
least sufficient intelligence to understand that theolog- 



182 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

ical controversy is a poor substitute for cooperation, 
where the interests of the working classes demand unity. 
His Protestantism is beyond question, so that he be- 
comes a powerful factor for solidarity, when he urges 
both Catholic and Protestant to combine in declaring 
a strike. It looks as if the old trick, by which Belfast 
capitalism invariably defeats labor, was about to fail. 
Rainey will prevent the disruption of the forces of the 
workers by showing them how the employers always 
raise the religious issue to their own advantage, thus 
bringing about that paradox of Irish politics : an in- 
dustrial population devoted to the behests of conserv- 
ative leaders. 

Out of his personal knowledge of social conditions in 
Belfast, St. John Ervine is able to portray with great 
veracity the mentality of this Protestant, partly awak- 
ened to a sense of actuality. But the latter is soon 
plunged into the historic past when he discovers that 
his son, Hugh, intends to marry Nora Murray, a Cath- 
olic girl. The red rag of "Popery" is before his eyes, 
and all his energies are now devoted to stirring up the 
ancient feud, until the strike is forgotten in a religious 
riot. The military are called out to quell the rioters, 
firing is heard in the street before the house, and when 
Nora rushes out, in helpless protest against this vio- 
lence, she is shot, thus solving the immediate problem. 
As for the general question raised by the play, the 
dramatist has no solution to offer, unless we are to sup- 
pose that the intermarriage, which did not take place, 
would have effected the necessary reconciliation of both 
creeds and the parties which stand for them. 



THE ULSTER LITERARY THEATRE 183 

For the English stage an epilogue to this question 
was written, and its conclusion is a similar hint of the 
regeneration of Ulster which may be expected from the 
younger generation. The Orangeman was ultimately 
included in the Abbey Theatre repertory, after it had 
made the round of the English provinces. It tells of 
the refusal of young Tom McClurg to carry on the 
family tradition of bigotry. His father, a veteran of 
the Orange faction, is too old and rheumatic to take 
part in the annual demonstration of his co-religionists, in 
celebration of the fictitious anniversary of the Battle 
of the Boyne. Old McClurg brings out his drum, a 
precious heirloom, which he has beaten vigorously every 
Twelfth of July, and demands that the son shall take 
his place in the parade. Tom McClurg vigorously 
repudiates the honor, and clinches his argument by 
putting his foot through the drum. 

The Magnanimous Lover, the author's second play, 
is a rather heavy-handed attempt to expose the moral 
prig who presumably lurks in many an Ulster Protes- 
tant, as he assuredly does in every puritanical com- 
munity. Maggie Cather scorns the unctuous remorse 
which has prompted her betrayer to offer marriage in 
reparation for his fault of ten years ago. Henry Hinde 
is an incredible creature, even if he be true to life, and 
his fatuous mouthing of Biblical precepts excites neither 
humor nor indignation. He is a lifeless target for a 
form of satire which only artistic selection could make 
interesting. The transcription of a cad's mind is not 
itself suflScient to endow the character with any sig- 
nificance. Nor is this weakness compensated by the 



184 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

changes solemnly rung by Maggie Gather upon the 
motive of so many feminist dramas : the divine right 
of woman to bear a child without reference to the legal 
ceremony of marriage. 

Artistic sensitiveness is not the strong point of St. 
John Ervine, as his characterization of Henry Hinde 
showed. Not satisfied with this failure to display that 
power of selection upon which the creative writer has 
always relied, he proceeded to make bad worse. 
Spurred by the futile reports in the Irish press of The 
Magnanimous Lover, none of which could ever be dig- 
nified by the name of criticism, he wrote a sketch en- 
titled The Critics. Bernard Shaw had shown what 
delightful fun could be had by dramatically criticizing 
the dramatic critics. This example should have been 
a warning to his protege, not an encouragement to 
ignore his own limitations. In a special note to the 
printed play, St. John Ervine informs us that the 
speeches in this wearisome buffoonery are "lifted" 
from the press notices of The Magnanimous Lover, 
One has no difficulty in believing this, though the 
fact does little credit to the author's imagination, 
and adds even less humor to the piece. 

A satirical exposure of what passes for criticism in 
the daily press of most English-speaking countries would 
be nowhere more effective than in Dublin, but The Critics 
is a reflection upon the reporter who wrote it rather than 
upon the reporters it vainly essays to satirize. What 
are we to think of the labored humor which would 
attribute to even the most ignorant newspapermen the 
belief that Hamlet is an immoral play by an "Ab- 



THE ULSTER LITERARY THEATRE 185 

bey'' playwright? or that Shakespeare must be the 
Gaelic form of the name Murphy ? Yet it is with such 
obvious fooling that St. John Ervine professes to demon- 
strate his superiority to criticism which, in the more 
enlightened days of his predecessors, was deservedly 
ignored. One would imagine that in failing to appre- 
ciate The Magnanimous Lover, the commercial press 
which vilified Synge and Yeats had finally committed 
an outrage upon good taste ! A writer who could 
include in his collected works such an intellectual 
offense as The Critics, whose mere performance was 
a reflection upon the critical standards of the Irish 
Theatre, is obviously disqualified for the task he has 
essayed. 

On being appointed manager of the Abbey Theatre, 
St. John Ervine produced his most recent play, John 
Ferguson (1915), which had been destined originally 
for the English stage. Owing to the precarious state 
of the theatre in London during wartime, he decided to 
give his work to Dublin, faute de mieux, as he was 
careful to explain to the reporters. This is his longest 
drama since Mixed Marriage, both being in four acts, 
so that the desire to obtain a more profitable hearing is 
easily explained in one whose concern for the Irish 
Theatre has been of a rather personal and casual nature. 
It must be confessed that, however great its appeal to 
a foreign audience, John Ferguson is not a very impor- 
tant contribution to the dramatic literature of the Irish 
Revival. Like so much that its author has written, 
it has secured more praise abroad than at home. An 
American critic has been inspired to the point of 



186 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

declaring it superior in almost every respect to the work 
of J. M. Synge. 

The play is related to Mixed Marriage in so far as it 
is a further illustration of the profound and unrelaxing 
faith of the religious Ulsterman. John Ferguson is a 
man of the same caliber as John Rainey in the earlier 
piece, but his convictions do not work for evil, although 
powerless to prevent it. His farm is mortgaged to 
Henry Witherow, the local gombeen-man, in whose 
power all his friends and neighbors are crushed. The 
family is waiting anxiously for the remittance from an 
uncle in America which will save them from eviction 
and ruin. Ferguson's daughter Hannah tries to con- 
quer her loathing for the mean-spirited James Csesar, 
who is willing to marry her and thereby bring the money 
into the household which would liberate them from 
Witherow's claims. She thinks she can make the sacri- 
fice, but is obliged to break her promise to Caesar, who 
is distracted with grief and shame at being openly 
scorned by those he would benefit. His feelings are 
those of madness when he learns that Hannah has been 
wronged by Witherow, and he swears to carry out a 
long-standing threat to kill him. 

Genuine as his fury is, once Caesar is on the road 
to Witherow's house his courage fails him, as it so often 
did before, and he can only lie in hiding, trembling with 
rage and fear. While the girl is sobbing at home, 
"Clutie" John, a local half-wit, goads her brother, 
Hugh, by his ingenuous talk to such a pitch that he 
determines to execute the deed which Caesar failed to 
accomplish. Unknown to all, he slips out into the night 



THE ULSTER LITERARY THEATRE 187 

and shoots Witherow, returning unperceived. The 
wretched man who had openly and so often vowed he 
would kill the gombeen is of course arrested, and no- 
body doubts that he is guilty. He even acquires a 
new dignity on that account in the eyes of Hannah. 
Her brother eventually confesses, for his principles and 
those of his father will not permit them to carry out the 
first impulse to arrange for his escape. Hugh is ar- 
rested, and the old father is left to console himself with 
the comforts of his religion, which has withstood every 
trial, including, finally, the arrival of the remittance, 
which would have saved everything by coming one mail 
sooner. 

John Ferguson reverses the natural order of most 
plays in being summarized, for it gains rather than 
loses by the process. The obvious banality of certain 
fundamental incidents does not alter the fact that the 
motive was soundly dramatic if not particularly new. 
The central figure, John Ferguson, is an attempt to 
portray a thoroughly religious, if simple, man, in the 
presence of disasters sufficient to try the faith of many 
devout Christians. His creator, however, has failed 
to infuse real life into him. Misled once again by 
his naive confidence in literal transcription, St. John 
Ervine conceives of no more effective means of char- 
acterizing John Ferguson than that of making him con- 
stantly read aloud, or repeat, long texts of Scripture. 
These lay sermons are excessive, and overshoot the 
mark. Similarly, in order that we may know James 
Csesar for a coward, the author makes of him a mon- 
strous caricature, who utters openly all the craven 



188 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

thoughts of the meanest-spirited creature conceivable 
to the average man. Both these characters remind 
one of those symboHcal personages in the medieval 
allegories, whose significance was writ large upon them 
in the most primitive fashion, so that there should be 
no mistake as to their identity. 

This crude characterization by means of externals, 
this purely mental conception of human types, reveals 
St. John Ervine as in the category of the melodramatists. 
He does not write out of any vision ; he does not speak 
with the authentic voice of one whose impulse comes 
straight from the life and spirit of his own people. Ex- 
cepting John Rainey in Mixed Marriage, there is not a 
character in these plays who is more than a mere verbal 
statement of a point of view, a labeled puppet through 
whom the author tries to convey his intentions. 
Speeches are no more a substitute for characterization 
than words are for drama, unless perhaps where a 
Bernard Shaw is concerned. He alone has made the 
exposition of ideas a satisfactory alternative to the por- 
trayal of life. St. John Ervine has not the intellectual 
power of formulating ideas in such a manner as to visual- 
ize a whole class and a philosophy. He has not that 
faculty which can evoke the mentality of a nation as in 
Broadbent of John Bull's other Island. The Ulster 
dramatist would believe himself to have done so, if he 
had put into Broadbent's mouth faithful and frequent 
quotations from the English Liberal newspapers ! By 
their words only, he seems to say, you shall know them. 

If John Ferguson and Henry Hinde do not convince 
us as being more than mechanical representations of 



THE ULSTER LITERARY THEATRE 189 

preconceived types, that is because they are not born 
of sympathetic insight and observation, but are 
attempts to reproduce verbally the author's recollec- 
tions of what such people say. They speak before us, 
but do not live before us. In almost all that St. John 
Ervine has written for the stage, reporting does duty 
for the creation and development of character. In 
his novels, whatever there is of reality is due to the 
same methods, but, in the main, he relies upon the 
elaboration of literary conventions, notably where 
women are concerned. Mrs. Martin and Alice are the 
stock figures of sentimental feminism. On the one 
hand is the martyred and indomitable wife, who, sur- 
viving her husband's worst offenses, manages to keep 
everything respectable; on the other, the familiar 
child of "mothering" proclivities, who triumphs by 
innocence and precocious wisdom in a world of cor- 
rupt and incompetent adults. The author of Alice 
and a Family has not studied life; he has studied 
Dickens, making a special note of "Little Dorrit" and 
" The Marchioness. " The women of both the plays and 
the novels are, in short, prolonged statements of " what 
every woman knows"; solemn demonstrations of the 
amiable platitude: "the hand that rocks the cradle 
rules the world." 

It is not within the province of the present work to 
estimate the position of St. John Ervine in contempo- 
rary English Literature. It may well be that his reputa- 
tion in England is assured, for it is to that pubHc he 
originally addressed himself, his connection with the 
Irish Theatre, and his interest in Ireland, being, as it 



190 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

were, an afterthought. It is certain that appreciation 
abroad will atone for the rather anomalous nature of his 
sudden relationship to a national movement with which 
he has, as an artist, little in common. A leading review 
in this country recently stated that " Synge at his best is 
superior to Mr. Ervine in sheer imaginative power, but 
a large part of his work is tainted with a kind of insan- 
ity, and he has nothing like Mr. Ervine's firm grasp of 
reality." That criticism is typical of the attitude of 
the press, outside Ireland, towards the author of Mrs. 
Martin's Man, his first popular success, which was 
vouched for by that expert in nationality, Mr. H. G. 
Wells. Bernard Shaw describes him as "a genuine 
Irishman of genius ", the inference being that those 
writers who have lived and worked in Ireland all their 
lives, and have felt the urge of the national spirit in 
literature, are not genuine. 

These encomiums, however justified, can have little 
bearing upon the question which falls within our present 
scope. We must determine the value of St. John Er- 
vine's work as part of the dramatic literature which 
owes its impulse to the forces that have built up the 
Irish Theatre. We have seen the character of the 
drama inspired by the traditions and ideals of a move- 
ment which has been a veritable literary renaissance in 
Ireland. How far does John Ferguson or Mixed Mar- 
riage correspond to the standards and purpose of the 
Dramatic Revival? It would seem as if neither had 
contributed materially to the realization of those aims 
which were before the pioneers and collaborators in 
the enterprise whose history has been outlined. St. 



THE ULSTER LITERARY THEATRE 191 

John Ervine belongs definitely to the new regime, which 
was forecasted by the gradual elimination of all but the 
more popular plays and playwrights from the current 
repertory of the Abbey Theatre. It is fitting and 
significant that he should now be manager of an in- 
stitution with which he was not associated until the 
process of change was under way. 

His plays are not Irish in the sense that those of his 
predecessors were ; they are not the expression of any 
profound or essential phase of our national life and 
being. They have neither the poetic, imaginative 
quality of Yeats or Synge, nor do they bear the imprint 
of the folk spirit which is the possession of Padraic 
Colum and the genuine peasant dramatists. What- 
ever their respective merits and demerits, all the writers 
heretofore mentioned have endeavored, with varying 
success, it is true, to dramatize those elements of our 
civilization which are fundamentally and specifically 
Irish. Some have felt the poetry, others the tragedy ; 
some have seen only the humor, others the superficial 
drama, of Ireland — but, with negligible exceptions, 
none have written in a mood indifferent, or alien, to the 
spirit of the race. 

St. John Ervine must be counted amongst those 
exceptions. He has not divined any vital situation 
arising out of the character of the Irish people and the 
composition of Irish society. His presentation of the 
political conflict in Ulster, a relatively superficial and 
transitory condition, is the only instance where he has 
given dramatic expression to a genuine Irish problem. 
The other plays produced at the Abbey Theatre had no 



192 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

more claim to the national stage than Jane Clegg, 
which is frankly English in its conception and appeal. 
Remove the Ulster accent from The Magnanimous 
Lover and John Ferguson, and there is no reason why 
they also should not be dedicated to Shaw, and ad- 
dressed directly to the same audience. In fine, this 
dramatist is at bottom a journalist, with an eye for the 
external peculiarities of Irish life ; hence Mixed Mar^ 
riage. 

That he is a good journalistic commentator on Irish 
political and social issues is proved by his entertaining 
study. Sir Edward Carson and the Ulster Movement (1915), 
where the hollowness of the question treated in Mixed 
Marriage is demonstrated with great skill. Such com- 
ment is open to all Irishmen, however expatriate, pro- 
vided they stimulate intelligent discussion, and St. 
John Ervine has established his right in this field more 
effectively than in the domain of Anglo-Irish literature. 
So far as the latter is concerned, he seems destined to 
be another of those Irishmen, like Wilde and Shaw 
(to name the inevitable pair), whose fame can never 
be identified with any other country but that of their 
literary naturalization. 



CHAPTER IX 
Summary and Conclusion 

Now that the Irish Theatre has entered upon a new 
phase of its existence, it is possible to sum up its present 
achievement. All the circumstances of the past few 
years indicate that a chapter in its history has closed, 
and that, whatever the future may bring, there can be no 
return to the conditions which prevailed until the death of 
Synge in 1909. It is not likely that the Abbey Theatre 
will disappear, for it has overcome difficulties which 
often threatened to make survival a miracle. Neither 
the European war, nor the devastation of Dublin dur- 
ing the insurrection of April, 1916, has destroyed it. 
Early in 1915 disquieting reports hinted at the aban- 
donment of the enterprise, but W. B. Yeats was able to 
affirm his intention of weathering the world-storm. 
As if to confirm the hope of permanence, the Theatre 
itself survived intact the destruction of all the neigh- 
boring buildings when the Irish capital was besieged. 

What has been said of the late dramatists should 
make it easy to understand why a change in the pro- 
gram of the National Theatre has become impera- 
tive. So long as the folk drama and the poetic drama 
of Irish legend were encouraged, there was a certain 

193 



194 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

homogeneity of purpose and spirit, but the complacent 
substitution of melodrama and farce made for disinte- 
gration. Intelligent playgoers could not be found 
to tolerate the eternal repetitions of the popular play- 
wrights, who did not even promise them the humor of 
peasant speech which distinguishes Lady Gregory's 
writings from the others. Consequently, the quality 
of both the plays and their audiences underwent a subtle 
change, until finally nothing remained of the original 
tradition but an occasional performance of Yeats and 
Synge. Even when the Irish Players went on tour 
they began to meet with the same complaints as had 
deprived them of their best supporters in Ireland. 
Moreover the Players themselves were no longer the 
same; they had lost too many of their best actors, 
the brothers Fay, Miss Sara Allgood, Miss Moira 
O'Neill, Miss Maire nic Shiubhlaigh and Miss Eithne 
Magee. The newcomers, players and playwrights 
alike, were living on the achievements of their prede- 
cessors. 

Just as this process of deterioration had reached its 
height, Edward Martyn found circumstances favorable 
to the resuscitation of his early plans. "The Irish 
Theatre'' was launched in 1914, to carry on the work 
of the Irish Literary Theatre and the various amateur 
theatrical associations which had been inspired by that 
example. All these scattered energies had been devoted 
to the support of the drama which did not come within 
the scope of the National Theatre. Reference has 
already been made to the success of this experiment, 
in which Martyn had the assistance of the late Thomas 



SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION 195 

MacDonagh and Joseph Plunkett. It is to be 
feared that the tragic terniination of the career of 
these writers, and the imprisonment of others who 
had collaborated with Martyn and MacDonagh, may 
have the effect of killing the Irish Theatre in embryo. 
The only alternative would be a junction of forces 
between the Abbey Theatre and the other organiza- 
tion. In other words, that divergence of aims which at 
the outset dissolved the partnership of Martyn and 
Yeats must be compromised. 

There is no reason why The Heather Field, The Shad- 
owy Waters, The Playboy of the Western World, and The 
Land should not be part of the same repertory. It 
is no less narrow to restrict the programs of the 
National Theatre to psychological than to peasant plays, 
and both branches of the Dramatic Movement have 
suffered by this dissociation. While Martyn's pro- 
gram had to be resigned to amateurs, Yeats's has 
been seriously threatened by the exigencies of commer- 
cial success. Similarly, the Ulster Literary Theatre 
Society purchased its independence at the cost of its 
corporate existence. Instead of becoming an integral 
part of the Abbey Theatre, the Ulster Theatre con- 
demned itself to a precarious and intermittent career, 
producing its plays anywhere and everywhere, in com- 
petition with the playhouses of commerce. Occasional 
visits to the National Theatre in Dublin were the only 
signs of the original affiliation, and almost all the Ul- 
ster plays have had their first nights in Belfast. Until 
Rutherford Mayne's If! was produced last year, none 
had its premiere at the Abbey Theatre. 



196 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

Should St. John Ervine carry out the avowed inten- 
tion of his management, we may expect the Irish 
Theatre to become, not a national institution, but a 
provincial English repertory theatre. Himself a dram- 
atist in the English, rather than the Irish, tradition, 
he will have no difficulty in effecting such a change. 
In fact he has publicly indicated the nature of his pro- 
posed innovations by promising the production of 
Milton's Samson Agonistes and Beaumont and Fletch- 
er's The Knight of the Burning Pestle, Coupled with 
his constant assurances of the non-existence of good 
Irish plays, such announcements suggest the advent of 
a subsidiary branch of the London Court Theatre or 
Stage Society. Nobody familiar with the dramatic 
literature of the Irish Revival would have much diffi- 
culty in proposing works of more national interest to 
replace these, and to rid their sponsor of his illusion that 
the native drama is an exhausted vein. With a little 
more sympathy for the achievement of his predecessors, 
he would have an unusual opportunity to bring about 
that union of forces which is desirable. The whole 
field of Irish drama might be represented, at last, by 
the repertory of the Abbey Theatre. Once that had 
been accomplished, the production of foreign master- 
pieces, whether by Milton or Hauptmann, would be 
welcomed by all educated Irishmen. As it is, both 
Edward Martyn and Lady Gregory have been instru- 
mental in making known much of the best work of the 
Continental dramatists, ancient and modern. 

Such a compromise, if it be correct to use that term, 
would not only be to the advantage of our dramatic 



SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION 197 

literature ; it would save the National Theatre from 
the worse compromise of abandoning its finest ideals. 
There is little use in saving its nominal life at the expense 
of its artistic soul. If it ceases to stand for those ideals 
so eloquently formulated by Yeats in the pages of 
Samhain, and so well defended and exemplified in the 
first decade of the Theatre's history, the loss will be 
hard for Ireland to replace. No satisfaction would then 
be derived from the thought that the Abbey Theatre 
was doing good service to the general repertory move- 
ment in England. If the Literary Revival has meant 
a great deal to us, the reason must be sought in the fact 
that it was always something more than "mere litera- 
ture." It has been a manifestation of nationality, 
which has given us a literature and a theatre essen- 
tially different from those of any other English-speak- 
ing country. 

After long years of purely political struggle, the soul 
of Ireland once more found expression in literature. 
When Gaelic ceased to be the medium of education, 
those who found themselves obliged to use English 
were cut off from contact with national culture, and 
could only attach themselves to the traditions of the 
new tongue. Then came the period of the anglicized 
Irish writers, — Goldsmith, Swift, and the others. 
The contrast between the poetry of the eighteenth cen- 
tury and that of the last fifty years gives the exact 
measure of the importance of the Celtic renaissance : 
W. B. Yeats cannot be mistaken for an English poet. 
Similarly, Synge is an Irish dramatist in a sense which 
makes the adjective meaningless when applied to Sher- 



198 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

idan or Oscar Wilde. The mere accident of birth in 
Ireland has never been sufficient to entitle a writer to a 
place beside those who have given us a national litera- 
ture. 

In an early number of Samhain, Yeats rejected, by 
implication, many who have since been admitted to 
the Irish Theatre, when he said : "If our organizations 
were satisfied to interpret a writer to his own country- 
men merely because he was of Irish birth, the organiza- 
tions would become a kind of trade-union for the help- 
ing of Irishmen to catch the ear of London publishers 
and managers, and for upholding writers who had been 
beaten by abler Englishmen." In view of contempo- 
rary circumstances that passage sounds prophetic. 
"Let a man turn his face to us," wrote Yeats in 1904, 
"accepting the commercial disadvantages that would 
bring upon him, and talk of what is near our hearts, 
Irish Kings and Irish Legends and Irish Countrymen, we 
would find it a joy to interpret him." We have, how- 
ever, changed all that under the later regime. The 
Abbey Theatre is now at the disposal of rising and ac- 
cepted London playwrights, whenever their usual mar- 
ket is not available, and it will tend to be so increas- 
ingly, unless some halt is called. 

Nevertheless, looking over the first ten years of the 
Irish National Theatre, one cannot but be impressed by 
the high quality of its achievement. What Yeats 
asked for at the outset has been granted; "the half- 
dozen minds who are likely to be the dramatic imagina- 
tion of Ireland for this generation" have produced their 
work, and secured an audience. In addition to the 



SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION 199 

dramatists of the first importance, there are the others, 
who have been adversely criticized, not so much be- 
cause of their inferior workmanship as on account of 
their prominence in the programs of the Abbey 
Theatre. It would be absurd to pretend, or expect, 
that every playwright must be of the same merit. There 
is room for farce and melodrama, of the most elementary 
kind, provided they be assigned to their proper place. 
Even the worst have not yet reached the depths of the 
same class of play in the theatre of commerce, and are, 
therefore, preferable. 

The Irish Theatre does not address itself to a clique 
only, but to the general public, and it must undoubt- 
edly cater for many tastes. Let us hope that it will 
continue to do so, always remembering and enforcing 
those standards and ideals which were its point of de- 
parture and its greatest strength. It would be a pity 
if its destinies should be intrusted to those who were 
ignorant, or contemptuous, of the traditions which have 
given dramatists to Ireland worthy of her poets. It is 
to the encouragement of such dramatists that every- 
thing must be subordinated, if the National Theatre is 
to justify its name, and prove equal to the task so cour- 
ageously and successfully initiated sixteen years ago. 



BIBLIOGRAPHICAL APPENDIX 



Contemporary Irish Dramatists 

The dates on the left are those of the first performance. 
On the right are the date and place of first publication in 
book form, unless when otherwise indicated. 

A. E. (George W. Russell). 

1902. Deirdre. Dublin, 1907. 

Republished in " Imaginations and Reveries.*' 
Dublin, 1915; New York, 1916. 
Boyle, William. 

1905. The Building Fund. Dublin, 1905. 

1906. The Eloquent Dempsey. Dublin, 1907. 
1906. The Mineral Workers. Dublin, 1907. 
1912. Family Failing. Dublin, 1913. 

Campbell, Joseph. 

1905. The Little Cowherd of Slainge : in " Uladh", 

November, 1904. 
1912. Judgment. Dublin, 1912. 

The Turn-out: in "The Irish Review", Au- 
gust, 1912. 
Colum, Padraic. 

1903. The Saxon Shilling. 

1903. Broken Soil, revised as The Fiddler's House. 

201 



202 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

1905. The Land. Dublin, 1905. 

1907. The Fiddler's House. Dublin, 1907. 

1908. The Miracle of the Corn : in " Studies." Dub- 

lin, 1907. 
1910. Thomas Muskerry. Dublin, 1910. 

1910. The Destruction of the Hostel : in " A Boy in 

Eirinn." New York, 1913 ; London, 1916. 
The Desert. Dublin, 1912. Under title 
"Mogu the Wanderer." Boston, 1917. 
1913. The Betrayal. 
DuNSANY, Lord. 

1909. The Glittering Gate. 

1911. King Argimenes and the Unknown Warrior. 

1912. The Golden Doom. 

1913. The Lost Silk Hat. 

All in "Five Plays." London and New 
York, 1914. 

1914. The Tents of the Arabs : m " The Smart Set ", 

March, 1915. 

1915. A Night at an Inn. 
Ervine, St. John G. 

1911. Mixed Marriage. Dublin, 1911. 

1912. The Magnanimous Lover. Dublin, 1912. 

1913. The Critics. 
1913. The Orangeman. 

All in " Four Plays." Dublin, 1914. 
1913. Jane Clegg. London, 1914 ; New York, 1915. 
1915. John Ferguson. Dublin, 1915; New York, 

1916. 
FiTZMAURicE, George. 

1907. The Country Dressmaker. Dublin, 1914. 

1908. The Pie-dish. 
1913. The Magic Glasses. 



BIBLIOGRAPHICAL APPENDIX 203 

The Moonlighter. 
The Dandy Dolls. 

All in " Five Plays." Dublin, 1914 ; Boston, 
1917. 
Gregory, Lady. 

1904. Spreading the News : in " Spreading the 

News and other Comedies." Dublin, 1907. 

1905. Kincora. Dublin, 1905. 

1905. The White Cockade. Dublin, 1905. 

1906. Hyacinth Halvey : in " Seven Short Plays." 

Dublin and Boston, 1909. 
1906. The Gaol Gate : in '' Seven Short Plays." 

1906. The Canavans : in "Irish Folk-History 

Plays." London and New York, 1912. 

1907. The Jackdaw : in " Seven Short Plays." 
1907. The Rising of the Moon : in " Spreading the 

News and other Comedies." 
1907. The Poorhouse : in " Spreading the News and 

other Comedies." 
1907. Devorgilla : in " Irish Folk-History Plays." 

1907. The Unicorn from the Stars (in collaboration 

with W. B. Yeats). New York, 1908. 

1908. The Workhouse Ward: in "Seven Short 

Plays." 

1909. The Image. Dublin and Boston, 1910. 

1910. The Travelling Man : in " Seven Short Plays." 
1910. The Full Moon: in "New Comedies." 

London and New York, 1913. 

1910. Coats : in " New Comedies." 

1911. The Deliverer : in " Irish Folk-History Plays." 

1912. MacDarragh's Wife, revised as McDonough's 

Wife : in " New Comedies." 
1912. The Bogie Men : in "New Comedies." 



204 THE CONTEMPOEARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

1912. Darner's Gold : in "New Comedies." 

Grania : in " Irish Folk-History Plays." 
1915. Shanwalla. 

The Golden Apple. London, 1916. 
MacDonagh, Thomas. 

1908. When the Dawn is Come. Dublin, 1908. 

1908. Sweet Innisfail. 

1912. Metempsychosis: in "The Irish Review", 

February, 1912. 
1915. Pagans. 
Martyn, Edward. 

1899. The Heather Field. London, 1899. 

1900. Maeve. London, 1899. 

1904. An Enchanted Sea. London, 1902. 

1905. The Tale of a Town. London, 1902. 
1912. Grangecolman. Dublin, 1912. 

1914. The Dream Physician. 

1915. The Privilege of Place. 
Mayne, Rutherford. 

1906. The Turn of the Road. Dublin, 1907 ; Boston, 

1917. 
1908. The Drone. Dublin, 1909; Boston, 1917. 

1908. The Troth. Dublin, 1909; Boston, 1917. 

1909. The Gomeril. 

1910. The Captain of the Hosts. 

1911. Red Turf: in "The Drone and other Plays." 

Dublin, 1912; Boston, 1917. 
1915. If! 
Moore, George. 

1900. The Bending of the Bough. London and 

Chicago, 1900. 

1901. Diarmuid and Grania (in collaboration with 

W. B. Yeats). 



BIBLIOGRAPHICAL APPENDIX 205 

Murray, T. C. 

1909. The Wheel of Fortune. 

1910. Birthright. Dubhn, 1911. 
1912. Maurice Harte. Dubhn, 1912. 

O'Kelly, Seumas. 

1907. The Matchmakers. Dubhn, 1908. 

1908. The Flame on the Hearth : in " Three Plays." 

Dublin, 1912. 

1909. The Shuiler's Child. Dublin, 1909. 

1910. The Homecoming : in " Three Plays." 

1914. The Bribe. Dublin, 1914. 
PuRCELL, Lewis. 

1904. The Reformers. 

1905. The Enthusiast. 

1906. The Pagan. Dublin, 1907. 
Robinson, Lennox. 

1908. The Clancy Name : in " Two Plays." Dublin, 

1911. 

1909. The Cross Roads. Dublin, 1911. 

1909. The Lesson of Life. 

1910. Harvest : in " Two Plays." 
1912. Patriots. Dubhn, 1912. 

1915. The Dreamers. Dublin, 1915. 
Synge, John M. 

1903. In the Shadow of the Glen. London, 1905. 

1904. Riders to the Sea. London, 1905. 

1905. The Well of the Saints. Dublin, London, 1905. 

1907. The Playboy of the Western World. Dubhn, 

1907. 

1909. The Tinker's Wedding. Dublin, 1907. 

1910. Deirdre of the Sorrows. Dublin, 1910. 

All in Collected Works. Dublin, 1910; 
Boston, 1911. 



206 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

Yeats, William Butler. 

1894. The Land of Heart's Desire. London and 

Chicago, 1894. 
1899. The Countess Cathleen. London and Boston, 
1892. 

1901. Diarmuid and Grania. 

1902. Cathleen ni HouHhan. London, 1902. 

1902. The Pot of Broth: in "Plays for an Irish 

Theatre '\ vol. 11. London and New York, 
1904. 

1903. The Hour Glass. London, 1903. 

1903. The King's Threshold : in " Plays for an Irish 

Theatre", vol. IIL London, 1904. 

1904. The Shadowy Waters. London, 1900 ; New 

York, 1901. 

1904. On Baile's Strand : in " Seven Woods." Dun- 
drum and New York, 1903. 

1904. Where there is Nothing. London and New 
York, 1903. 

1906. Deirdre. London, 1907. 

1907. The Unicorn from the Stars (in collaboration 

with Lady Gregory). New York, 1908. 

1908. The Golden Helmet. New York and Strat- 

ford-on-Avon, 1908. 

1910. The Green Helmet. Dundrum and New 
York, 1910. 

1916. The Player Queen. 

See also Poetical Works : Volume II, Dra- 
matical Poems, New York, 1907 ; Collected 
Works in Verse and Prose, 8 volumes, 
Stratford-on-Avon, 1908; and subsequent 
collected editions. 



BIBLIOGRAPHICAL APPENDIX 207 

II 

Critical Works 

Andrews, Charlton. The Drama To-day. Philadel- 
phia, 1913. 
Archer, William. Poets of the Younger Generation. 

London, 1902. 
BiCKLEY, Francis. J. M. Synge and the Irish Dramatic 

Movement. London and Boston, 1912. 
BiTHELL, Jethro. W. B. Yeats. Paris, 1913. 
BoRSA, Mario. II Teatro Inglese Confemporaneo. Milan, 

1906 ; London and New York, 1908. 
Bourgeois, Maurice. J. M. Synge and the Irish 

Theatre. London, 1913. 
Boyd, Ernest A. Ireland's Literary Renaissance. New 

York, 1916. 
Brown, Stephen J. A Guide to Books on Ireland, 

Part L Dublin, 1912. 
Carter, Huntly. The New Spirit in Drama and Art. 

London, 1912. 
Chandler, F. W. Aspects of Modern Drama. New 

York, 1914. 
Clark, B. H. British and American Drama of To-day. 

New York, 1915. 
Elton, Oliver. Modern Studies. London, 1907. 
Figgis, Darrell. Studies and Appreciations. London 

and New York, 1912. 
Gregory, Lady Augusta. Our Irish Theatre. New 

York, 1913 ; London, 1914. 
Gwynne, Stephen. To-Day and To-Morrow in Ireland. 

Dublin, 1903. 
Hamilton, Clayton. Studies in Stagecraft. New York, 

1915. 



208 THE CONTEMPORARY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

Hone, J. M. W. B. Yeats. Dublin, 1915 ; New York, 

1916. 
Howe, P. P. The Repertory Theatre. London, 1910. 
J. M. Synge. A Critical Study. London and New 

York, 1912. 
HuNEKER, James. The Pathos of Distance. New York 

and London, 1913. 
Jackson, Holbrook. All Manner of Folk. London and 

New York, 1912. 
The Eighteen Nineties. London and New York, 

1913. 
Kennedy, J. M. English Literature : 1880-1905. Lon- 
don, 1912. 
Krans, H. S. W. B. Yeats and the Irish Literary Re- 
vival. New York, 1904 ; London, 1905. 
Lewisohn, L. The Modern Drama. New York, 1915. 
Mair, G. H. English Literature : Modern. London and 

New York, 1911. 
Modern English Literature. London and New York, 

1914. 
Malye, Jean. La Litterature Irlandaise Contemporaine. 

Paris, 1913. 
Masefield, John. John M. Synge: A Few Personal 

Recollections. Dundrum and New York. 1915. 
Mason, Eugene. A Book of Preferences in Literature. 

London, 1915 ; New York, 1916. 
MoNAHAN, M. Nova Hibernia. New York, 1914. 
Montague, C. E. Dramatic Values. London and New 

York, 1911. 
MooRE, George. Hail and Farewell. 3 vols. London 

and New York, 1911-1914. 
Nevinson, H. W. Books and Personalities. London 

and New York, 1905. 



BIBLIOGRAPHICAL APPENDIX 209 

Oliver, D. E. The English Stage: Its Origins and 
Modern Development. London, 1912. 

Olivero, F. Studi sul Romanticismo Inglese. Bari, 1914. 

Paul-Dubois, L. L'Irlande Contemjporaine. Paris, 1907 ; 
Dublin, 1911. 

Reid, Forrest. W. B. Yeats ; A Critical Study. Lon- 
don and New York, 1915. 

Walbrook, H. M. Nights at the Play. London, 1911. 

Walkley, a. B. Drama and Life. London, 1907 ; New 
York, 1911. 

Weygandt, C. Irish Plays and Playwrights. Boston 
and London, 1913. 

Yeats, W. B. The Cutting of an Agate. New York, 
1912. 

Ill 

Periodicals 

Bewley, Charles. The Irish National Theatre. Dub- 
lin Review, January, 1913. ■ 

Bickley, Francis. Deirdre. Irish Review, July, 1912. 

Birmingham, George. The Literary Movement in Ire- 
land. Fortnightly Review, December, 1907. 

Bourgeois, Maurice. Synge and Loti. Westminster 
Review, May, 1913. 
, Boyd, Ernest A. The Abbey Theatre. Irish Review, 
February, 1913. 
Le Theatre Irlandais. Revue de Paris, September 1, 
1913. 

Cazamian, Madeleine. Le Theatre de J. M. Synge. 
Revue du Mois, October, 1911. 

Clark, James M. The Irish Literary Movement. Eng- 
lische Studien, July, 1915. 



210 THE CONTEMPORAEY DRAMA OF IRELAND 

CoLUM, Padraic. The Irish Literary Movement. 
Forum, January, 1915. 

CoNNELL, NoRREYS. John MilHngton Synge. EngHsh 
Review, June, 1909. 

Duncan, E. M. The Writings of W. B. Yeats. Fort- 
nightly Review, February, 1909. 

DuNSANY, Lord. Romance and the Modern Stage. 
National Review, July, 1911. 

GuNNELL, Doris. Le Nouveau Theatre Irlandais. La 
Revue, January 1, 1912. 

Gunning, G. Hamilton. The Decline of the Abbey 
Theatre Drama. Irish Review, February, 1912. 

GwYNNE, Stephen. The Irish Theatre. Fortnightly 
} Review, 1901. 

The Uncommercial Theatre. Fortnightly Review, 
December, 1902. 

MacGrath, John. W. B. Yeats and Ireland. West- 
minster Review, July, 1911. 

Maguire, Mary C. John Synge. Irish Review, March, 
1911. 

Mencken, H. L. Synge and Others. Smart Set, Octo- 
ber, 1912. 

Mennloch, Walter. Dramatic Values. Irish Review, 
September, 1911. 

Montgomery, K. L. Some Writers of the Celtic Renais- 
sance. Fortnightly Review, September, 1911. 

Reid, Forrest. The Early Work of W. B. Yeats. Irish 
Review, January, 1912. 

Tennyson, Charles. Irish Plays and Playwrights. 
Quarterly Review. July, 1911. 
The Rise of the Irish Theatre. Contemporary Re- 
view, August, 1911. 



INDEX 



Abbey playwrights, 163-169 

Abbey Theatre, DubHn, 38, 
39, 43, 49, 54, 61, 79, 
99, 117, 122, 126, 127, 
138, 140, 149, 153, 
163, 166, 167, 170, 
172, 175, 181, 185, 
193, 195, 197, 198 

Abbey Theatre Company, 43 

Abbey Theatre Repertory, 
67, 85, 137, 138, 140, 
143, 149, 150, 164, 
183, 191, 196, 199 

Abbey Theatre School, 40, 
43-44 

"Abbey Theatre Series", 99, 
113, 135, 180 

A. E. (George W. Russell), 
47, 48, 81, 82, 107, 
111, 115, 121, 122, 
164 
Quoted, 164 

Works : Co-operation and 
Nationality, 115 
New Songs (anthology), 
111 

Alice and a Family, 180, 189 

Allgood, Miss Sara, 42, 43, 
132, 194 

All Ireland Review, The, 33 

Ancient Concert Rooms, 
DubHn, 27 

Antoine, Mons., 33 

Apostle, The, 24 

Aran Islands, The, 90, 94 

Archer, WilUam, 14, 17 

Arrah na PoguCy 164 



Arrenopia, 4 

Avenue Theatre, London, 14, 
37,49 

Beaumont and Fletcher, 196 

Belfast, 171, 182 

Belfast Protestant National 

Society, 171 
Bell Branch, The, 61 
Beltaine, 22, 171 

Note of, 11 

Quoted, 8, 9, 11, 21 

Successor to, 22 
Bending of the Bough, The, 
discussion of, 23-25 

Produced, 6 

PubHshed, 22 
Berlin, 3 

Bernhardt, Mme. Sarah, 41 
Bierce, Ambrose, 155 
Birmingham, George, 129 
Birthright, 168 
Blackwood, Algernon, 155 
Bogie Men, The, 128 
Book of Irish Verse, A (Yeats* 

anthology), 50 
Book of Saints and Wonders, 

A, 123, 125 
Book of Wonder, The, 154 
Boucicault, Dion, 159 
Boy in Eirinn, A, 118 
Boyd, Thomas, 61 

Work: To the Leandn 
Sidhe, 61 
Boyle, WilHam, 121, 143 

Comedies of, 138-141 

Popularity of, 121-122, 140 



211 



212 



INDEX 



Boyle, William — (continued) 
Works : Building Fund, 
The, 138, 139, 140 
Eloquent Dempsey, The, 

138, 139 
Family Failing, 138, 139, 

140, 176 
Kish of Brogues, A, 138 
Mineral Workers, The, 
138, 139, 140 
Brian of Banha, 171 
Bribe, The, discussed, 152- 
153 
Produced, 150 
Brieux, Eugene, 2 
Broken Soil, 111 
Discussed, 112-113 
Produced, 37, 110, 112 
PubUshed, 112 
Rewritten as Fiddler^s 
House, 112 
Building Fund, The, dis- 
cussed, 139, 140 
Produced and published, 
138 

Calderon, 4 

Campbell, Joseph, 171-172, 
173, 174 
Works : Judgment, 173, 
174 
Little Cowherd of Slainge, 

The, 171-172 
Hearing Stones, 173-174 
Campbell, Mrs. Patrick, 42 
Canavans, The, 130, 136 

Discussed, 134-135 
Casadh an t-Sugdin (The 
Twisting of the Rope), 
6,32 
Casey, W. F., 164 

Work: Man Who Missed 
the Tide, The, 164 
Casting Out of Martin 
Whelan, The, 168 



Cathleen ni Houlihan, 71, 171 
Discussed, 63-66 
Produced, 33, 36, 37, 71 
Published, 36 
Celtic Renaissance, The, 2, 4, 

5, 47, 48, 49, 197 
Celtic Twilight, 49, 50 
Cervantes, 106 
Charwoman' s Daughter, The^ 

180 
Chekhov, Anton, 7, 30 
Choir, Palestrina (Dublin 

Cathedral), 12 
Clancy Name, The, 166 
Coats, 128, 129, 137 
Collected Works (Yeats), 51, 

54, 67, 76 
Colleen Baton, 164 
Colum, Padraic, 36, 88, 110- 
120, 121, 149. 168, 
169, 191 
Birthplace, 117 
Contribution to Irish 

drama, 116 
Debut of, 110 
Quoted, 117 

Works : Boy in Eirinn, A, 
118 
Broken Soil, Z7, no. Ill, 

112-113 
Desert, The (Mogu the 

Wanderer), 118-119 
Destruction of the Hostel, 

117, 118 
Eoghan's Wife, 111 
Fiddler's House, The, 

112-113, 119, 176 
Foley s. The, 111 
Kingdom of the Young, 

The, 110 
Land, The, 39, 113-115, 

119, 195 
Miracle of the Corn, 117 
Saxon Shilling, The, 110 
Studies, 117 



INDEX 



213 



Colum, Padraio, Works — 
(continued) 
Thomas Muskerry, 115- 

116, 137 
Wild Earth, 111 
Connell, Norreys, 169 
Works: Piper, The, 169 
Time, 169 
Co-operation and Nationality, 

115 
Countess Cathleen, The, 11, 32, 
62, 63, 67, 100 
Discussed, 55-59 
Produced, 6, 53, 54, 58 
Published, 53 
Countess Cathleen and Various 
Legends and Lyrics, 
49 
Country Dressmaker, The, 
146, 147 
Discussed, 144-145 
Produced, 143 
PubUshed, 144 
Cousins, James, 36, 61 
Works : Bell Branch, The, 
61 
Racing Lug, The, 171 
Sleep of the King, The, 
36 
Critics, The, discussed, 184- 
185 
Produced and published, 
181 
Crock of Gold, The, 111, 180 
Cross Roads, The, 164-165 
Cuala Press, 86 
Cuchulain of Muirthemne, 83, 

105, 123, 124-125 
Cuchullin Saga, The, 125 
Cuckoo's Nest, The, 169 

Darner's Gold, 128 
Dandy Dolls, The, discussed, 
147-148 
Published, 144 



Death of Cuchullin, 78 
Deirdre (A. E.), 64, 66, 107, 

108, 111 
Produced, 33, 36, 171 
Published, 36 
Deirdre (Yeats), 42, 43, 108 

Discussed, 81-83, 107 
Deirdre of the Sorrows, 81, 

92, 130, 136 
Discussed, 107-109 
Produced, 107 
Published, 106 
Deliverer, The, 130, 134 
de Max, Mons., 41 
Demi-Gods, The, 180 
Desert, The (Mogu the Wan- 
derer), 118-119 
Destruction of the Hostel, The, 

117, 118 
Destruction of the House of 

Da Derga, 117 
Devorgilla, 130 

Discussed, 132 
Diarmuid and Grania, 32 

Produced, 6 
Dickens, Charles, 180, 189 
DoWs House, The, 19, 112 
Donegal peasantry, 173 
Don Quixote, 106 
Dreamers, The, 167-168 
Dreamer's Tales, A, 154, 155 
Dream Physician, The, 30 
Drone, The, discussed, 176- 

177 
Published, 175 
Dublin, 13, 37, 48, 49, 84, 

90, 171, 173, 184, 185, 

193 
Dublin University, 90 
Dublin University Review, 49, 

53 
Dundrum, 51 
Dunn Emer Press, 86 
Dunsany, Lord, 85, 88, 118, 

148, 153-161 



'** 



214 



INDEX 



Dunsany, Lord — (continued) 
Inventiveness of, 154-155, 

162, 163 
Quintessence of, 159 
Successor to Yeats, 162 
Miscellaneous Works : Book 
of Wonder, The, 154 
Dreamer's Tales, A, 154, 

155 
Fifty-one Tales, 154-155 
Gods of Pegana, The, 154 
Sword of Welleran, The, 

154 
Time and the Gods, 154 
Plays : Glittering Gate, The^ 

154, 155-156 

Gods of the Mountain, 
The, 155, 157-159, 161 

Golden Doom, The, 155, 
159 

King Argimenes and the 
Unknown Warrior, 

155, 156-157 

Lost Silk Hat, The, 155, 

159-160 
Night at the Inn, A, 155, 

161-162 
Tents of the Arabs, The, 

155, 160-161 

Echegaray, Jose, 8 
Eglinton, John, 12, 48 
Elizabeth Cooper, 24 
Eloquent Dempsey, The, dis- 
cussed, 139 

Produced and published, 138 
Emmet, Robert, 167, 168 
Enchanted Sea, The, dis- 
cussed, 25-26 

Produced, 27 

Published, 22 
Enthusiast, The, 181 
Eoghan's Wife, 111 
Erasmus Smith School (Dub- 
lin), 48 



Ervlne, St. John, 179-192, 
196 
Criticism of, 188, 189, 190- 

192 
Manager of Abbey Theatre, 

181, 185, 191 
Miscellaneous works : Alice 
and a Family, 180, 189 
Mrs. Martin's Man, 179 
Sir Edward Carson and 
the Ulster Movement, 
192 
Plays: Critics, The, 181, 
184-185 
Jane Clegg, 181, 192 
John Ferguson, 181, 185, 

190, 192 
Magnanimous Lover, The, 
181, 183-184, 185, 192 
Mixed Marriage, 179, 
180, 181-182, 185, 186, 
188, 190 
Orangeman, The, 181, 183 
Rank, 179, 189-190 
Versatility, 181 
Esther Waters, 24 

Fairy and Folk Tales of the 
Irish Peasantry, 59, 72 
Fairy Music, 61 
Family Failing, 176 
Discussed, 139, 140 
Produced and published, 
138 
Farr, Miss Florence, 10 
Fay, Frank, 33, 40, 43, 81 
Collection of, 40-41 
Voice of, 42 
Fay, W. C, 33, 40 
Departure of, 44 
Talent of, 42-43, 72 
Fay brothers, 10, 34, 35, 37, 
40, 43, 45, 66, 67, 79, 
81, 88, 110, 119, 152, 
171, 194 



INDEX 



215 



Fay's Irish National Dra- 
matic Company, 33, 
34, 36, 39, 64, 71, 111, 
122, 140 
Feast of Bricriu, The, 83 
Ferguson, Samuel, 48 
Fiddler's House, The (Broken 
Soil), 119, 176 
Discussed, 112-113 
PubHshed, 112 
Fifty-one Tales, 154-155 
Fitzmaurice, George, 143-149 
Rank of, 149 
Use of idiom, 145, 147, 

148-149 
Works : Country Dress- 
maker, The, 143, 144- 
145, 146, 147 
Dandy Dolls, The, 144, 

147-148 
Magic Glasses, The, 144, 

147-148 
Moonlighter, The, 144, 

146-147 
Pie-dish, The, 143, 144, 
145-146 
Five Plays (Dunsany), 155 
Five Plays (Fitzmaurice), 

144, 145 
Foley s. The, 111 
Fool of the World, The, 74 
Freie Buhne (Theatre), 1 
Full Moon, The, 128, 129 

Gaelic drama, 4 

Literature, 4 
GaeUc Repertory Theatre, 

170 
Gaiety Theatre, Manchester, 

39 
Gaol Gate, The, 127, 128, 

137 
General John Regan, 129, 130 
Ghosts, 17, 112 
Giraldi, Giovanni, 4 



Glittering Gate, The, dis- 
cussed, 155-156 
Produced, 154, 155 
Published, 155 
Gods and Fighting Men, 123 
Gods of Pegana, The, 154 
Gods of the Mountain, The, 
161 
Discussed, 157-159 
Published, 155 
Golden Doom, The, discussed, 
159 
Published, 155 
Goldsmith, Oliver, 197 
Gombeen Man, The, 164, 168 
Gonne, Miss Maud, 66 
Grangecolman, discussed, 28- 
29 
Produced, 28 
Grania, 130, 136 

Discussed, 132-134 
Green Helmet, The {Golden 
Helmet), 52, 134 
Discussed, 83-84 
Produced, 83 
Gregory, Lady, 6, 34, 36, 37, 
39, 64, 71, 83, 104, 
121, 143, 149, 150, 
176, 194, 196 
Collaboration with Yeats, 
64, 67, 70, 71, 72, 
122-123 
Comedies, 126-130 
Debt to O'Grady, 124 
Folk history plays, 130-138 
Kiltartan English, 105, 126 
Literary position, 123, 138 
Miscellaneous works : Book 
of Saints and Wonders, 
A, 123, 125 
Cuchulain of Muir- 
themne, 83, 105, 123, 
124-125 
Gods and Fighting Men^ 
123 



216 



INDEX 



Gregory, Lady, Miscellaneous 

works — (continued) . 
Kiltartan History Book, 

The, 123 
Kiltartan Wonder Bookt 

The, 123 
Our Irish Theatre, 122 
Poets and Dreamers, 123, 

125 
Plays: Bogie Men, The, 

128 
Canavans, The, 130, 134- 

135, 136 
Coats, 128, 129, 137 
Darner's Gold, 128 
Deliverer, The, 130, 134 
Devorgilla, 130, 132 
Full Moon, The, 128, 129 
Gaol Gate, The, 127, 128, 

137 
Grania, 130, 132-134, 

136 
Hyacinth Halvey, 127 
Image, The, 127, 129- 

130, 131 
Irish Folk History Plays, 

127, 130, 136 
Jackdaw, The, 127 
Kiltartan Molibre, The, 

126 
Kincora, 130, 131, 135 
UAvare (translation) , 126 
Le Medecin malgr6 lui 

(translation), 126 
Les Fourheries de Scapin 

(translation), 126 
McDonough's Wife, 128 
New Comedies, 127, 128 
Poorhouse, The, 127 
Rising of the Moon, The, 

127, 128, 137 
Seven Short Plays, 72, 

127 
Spreading the News, 39, 

127, 128 



Travelling Man, The, 127 
Twenty-five, 37, 127 
Unicorn from the Stars, 
The (with W. B. 
Yeats), 67, 68-70, 126 
White Cockade, The, 130, 

135-136 
Workhouse Ward, The, 
127, 128, 137 
Popularity, 121, 137 
Service to Irish Theatre, 

122-123 
Synge's influence on, 133- 

134, 136 
Use of idiom, 105, 125 
Writing and environment, 
121-126 
Griffith, Arthur, 111 
Guinan, John, 169 

Works : Cuckooes Nest, 
The, 169 
Plough-Lifters, The, 169 



Hail and Farewell, 12, 22 
Harvest, 165-166 
Hauptmann, Gerhart, 2, 8, 

196 
Heather Field, The, 5, 19, 29, 
195 
Discussed, 14-18 
Produced, 6, 13 
Pubhshed, 13 
Translated, 13 
Hedda Gahler, 19, 112 
History of Ireland: Cuculain 
and His Contempora- 
ries, 124 
History of Ireland: Heroic 

Period, 124 
Hobson, Bulmer, 171 

Brian of Banha, 171 
Homecoming, The, 149, 150 
Hopper, Nora, 61 
Fairy Music, 61 



INDEX 



217 



Horniman, Miss A. E. F., 38 
Established Gaiety Thea- 
tre, 39 
Gift to Irish Players, 38, 
142 
Houghton, Stanley, 181 
Hour Glass, The, discussed, 
73-74 
Produced, 37, 72 
Published, 72 
Hull, Eleanor, 125 
Hyacinth Halvey, 127 
Hyde, Douglas, 6, 104, 126, 
149 
Works: Tioisting of the 
Rope, The, 6, 32 
Love Songs of Connacht, 
104 



Ibsen, Henrik, 8, 14, 29, 112 
Influence of, 2, 11, 17, 18, 

19, 29 
Works : DolVs House, The, 
19, 112 
Ghosts, 17, 112 
Hedda Gabler, 19, 112 
Lady from the Sea, The^ 

19, 25 
Rosmersholm, 28 
Wild Duck, The, 17, 148 
**Ibsenite movement", 5 
///, produced, 175, 195 
Image, The, 127, 129-130, 

131 
Independent Theatre, Lon- 
don, 1, 5, 8, 14, 18 
Independent Theatre Com- 
pany, 28 
Independent Theatre Move- 
ment, 14 
Interior, 96 

In the Seven Woods, 52 
In the Shadow of the Glen, 43, 
80,98 



Discussed, 93-94 
Produced, 37, 92, 93, 110 
In Wicklow, West Kerry and 

Connemara, 91 
Irish Dramatic Revival 
(Movement), 2, 3-5, 
12, 27, 32, 33, 34, 35, 
37, 43, 44, 47, 53, 54, 
67, 85, 89, 99, 102, 
121, 122, 138, 142, 
155, 170, 171, 175, 
178, 179, 190 
Origin and Founders of, 5 
Irish Fireside, The, 49 
Irish Folk History Plays, 

127, 130, 136 
Irish Literary Revival, 2, 3, 
4, 47, 49, 59, 122, 179, 
180, 185, 196, 197 
Irish Literary Society of 

New York, 37 
Irish Literary Theatre 
(original), 14, 19, 22, 
27, 30, 32, 33, 34, 35, 
36, 40, 51, 53, 81, 
110, 111, 133, 152, 
194 
History of, 5-6 
Plays produced, 6-7, 13, 

19, 32, 53, 58 
Purpose of, 8-10 
Sources of, 7 
Irish Monthly, The, 49 
Irish National Theatre (see 
also Abbey Theatre) 
3, 4, 10, 12, 30, 32-46, 
60, 64, 87, 90, 92, 122, 
123, 126, 141, 149, 154, 
162, 169, 174, 178, 185, 
190, 193, 194, 195 
Achievement of, 198-199 
Actors of, 33 
Birth of, 4-5 

Change in program, 193- 
199 



218 



INDEX 



Irisli National Theatre — (con- 
tinued) 

Fay's contribution to, 40, 
67 

Gift to, 38 

House of, 38 

Influence of, 3 

Recent tendencies, 119, 
121, 140, 142 

Sources of, 7, 33, 39, 40, 
111 
Irish National Theatre (Dra- 
matic) Society, 5, 8, 
34, 39, 75, 88, 110, 
122 

Program of, 36, 37 

Prospectus of, 36 
Irish Players, 8, 39, 127, 150, 
173, 194 

Acting of, 34, 40, 41 

First tour abroad, 37, 
139 

French influence on, 41 

Home of, 38 

New company of, 43, 44, 
119 

Speech of, 10, 42 

Training of, 40-41 
Irish Texts Society, 125 
''Irish Theatre, The," 30, 

194, 195 
Island of Statues, The, 53 

Jackdaw, The, 127 

Jane Clegg, 181, 192 

John BulVs Other Island, 4, 

188 
John Ferguson, 190, 192 

Produced, 181, 185 

Pubhshed, 181 
John Sherman, 69 
Johnson, Lionel, 49 
Johnston, Charles, 48 
Judgment, discussed, 174 

Produced, 173 



Kerrigan, Mr. (actor), 43 
Kiltartan, Galway, 126 
Kiltartan EngUsh, 105, 126, 

145, 149 
Kiltartan History Book, The, 

123 
Kiltartan Molibre, The, 126 
Kiltartan Wonder Book, The, 

123 
Kincora, 130 

Discussed, 130-131 
Produced, 131 
Published, 131, 135 
Revised, 131 
King Argimenes and the Un- 
known Warrior, dis- 
cussed, 156-157 
Produced, 156 
Pubhshed, 155 
Kingdom of the Young, The, 

110 
King's Threshold, The, 43 
Discussed, 79-80 
Produced, 37 
Pubhshed, 79 
Kish of Brogues, A, 138 
Kismet, 118 
Knight of the Burning Pestle, 

The, 196 
Knoblauch, Edward, 118 
Kottabos, 90 

Lady From the Sea, The, 19, 25 
Land, The, 119, 195 

Discussed, 113-115 

Produced, 39, 113 

Pubhshed, 113 
Land Act of 1903, 113 
Land of Heart's Desire, The, 
discussed, 59-62 

Produced, 14, 37, 49, 53, 
59, 61 
Last Feast of Fianna, The, 6 
Laurence, D. H., 181 
UAvare (translation), 126 



INDEX 



219 



Laying of the Foundation, 

The, 152 
Leader, The, 25 
Leinster Stage Society, 170 
Le Medecin malgre lid (trans- 
lation), 126 
Les Fourberies de Scapin 

(translation), 126 
Limerick, 4 
Little Cowherd of Slainge, 

The, 171-172 
London, 3, 5, 7, 13, 14, 18, 

37, 42, 48, 49, 53, 98, 

179, 181, 185 
London Court Theatre or 

Stage Society, 67, 193 
Lost Silk Hat, The, discussed, 

159-160 
PubHshed, 155 
Love Songs of Connacht, 104 

MacDonagh, Thomas, 111, 
167, 195 
When the Dawn is Come, 
167 
Maehen, Arthur, 155 
Macleod, Fiona (William 

Sharp), 11 
**MacNamara, Gerald", 172 
Works : Thompson in Tir- 
na-n'Og, 172 
When the Mist does he 
on the Bog, 172 
Maeterlinck, Maurice, 8, 63, 

96 
Maeve, 5, 25, 29 
Discussed, 19-22 
Produced, 6, 13 
Published, 13 
Magee, Miss Eithne, 43, 194 
Magic Glasses, The, discussed, 
147-148 
Published, 144 
Magnanimous Lover, ThCj 
185, 192 



Discussed, 183-184 
Produced and published, 
181 
Manchester, England, 181 
Mangan, James Clarence, 48 
Man Who Missed the Tide, 

The, 164 
Martin Luther, 24 
Martyn, Edward, 5, 12-31, 
32, 34, 36, 62, 90, 
195, 196 
Biography of, 12-13 
Ibsen's influence on, 5, 17- 

19 
Launches "Irish Theatre ", 

194-195 
Novel, 13 
Purpose of, 7-8, 14 
Verse, 13 

Works : Dream Physician, 
The, 30 
Enchanted Sea, The, 22, 

25-27 
Grangecolman, 28-29 
Heather Field, The, 5, 6, 
13, 14-18, 19, 29, 195 
Maeve, 5, 6, 13, 19-22, 

25, 29 
Morgante, the Lesser, 13 
Place Hunters, The, 25 
Tale of a Town, The, 22, 
23, 24, 25, 27 
Masefield, John, 96 
Matchmakers, The, 149 
Maurice Harte, 168 
Mayne, Rutherford, 172, 173, 
175-178, 179, 195 
Studies of peasant life, 178 
Works: Drone, The, 175, 
176-177 
///, 175, 195 
Red Turf, 175, 177-178 
Troth, The, 175, 177 
Turn of the Road, The, 
172, 175-176 



220 



INDEX 



McDonougKs Wife, 128 
Mearing Stones, 173-174 
Mechanics' Institute, Dub- 
lin, 38 
Milligan, Miss Alice, 6, 7 

Last Feast of Fianna, The, 6 
Milton, 196 

Mineral Workers, The, dis- 
cussed, 139-140 
Produced and published, 
138 
Miracle of the Corn, 117 
Mixed Marriage, 179, 185, 
186, 188, 190 
Discussed, 181-182 
PubUshed, 180 
Mogu the Wanderer {The 
Desert), published, 
118-119 
Moonlighter, The, discussed, 
146-147 
Published, 144 
Moore, George, 5, 18, 22, 23, 
24, 27, 30, 34, 36, 133 
Analysis of Independent 

Theatre by, 14 
Criticism of, 24 
Preface by, 13, 14 
Purpose of, 7-8 
Quoted, 17, 21, 22, 47 
Works : Apostle, The, 24 
Bending of the Bough, 
The, 6, 22, 23, 24, 25 
Diarmuid and Grania 
(in collaboration), 6, 
32 
Elizabeth Cooper, 24 
Esther Waters, 24 
Hail and Farewell, 12, 22 
Martin Luther, 24 
Strike at Arlingford, The, 
14, 24 
Morgante the Lesser, 13 
Morte d' Arthur, 125 
Mosada, 53 



Mrs. Martin's Man, 179 
Murray, T. C, 153, 164, 168 
Works: Birthright, 168 
Maurice Harte, 168 

National Players, 27, 170 
New Comedies (Lady Greg- 
ory), 127, 128 
New Songs (A. E.), Ill 
New York City, 13, 155 
Night at the Inn, A, dis- 
cussed, 161-162 
Produced, 155 
North American Review, 75 

O'Donnell, F. H., attack on 

Yeats, 62-63 
O'Donovan, Mr. (actor), 43 
0' Grady, Standish James, 
2, 6, 11, 124, 125 
Called "Father of the Re- 
vival", 124 
Works : History of Ire- 
land : Cuculain and 
His Contemporaries, 
124 
History of Ireland : 
Heroic Period, 124 
O'Kelly, Seumas, 149-153 
Works: Bribe, The, 150, 
152-153 
Homecoming, The, 149, 

150 
Laying of the Foundation, 

The, 152 
Matchmakers, The, 149 
Shuiler's Child, The, 149- 

150, 150-152 
Stranger, The, 149, 150 
Three Plays, 149 
On Bailees Strand, 43, 83 
Discussed, 78-79 
Produced, 79 
PubUshed, 78 



INDEX 



221 



O'Neill, Miss Moira, 43, 194 
Orangeman, The, discussed, 

183 
Produced and published, 

181 
Ormond Dramatic Society, 

33 
O'Sullivan, Seumas, 36, 111 
Our Irish Theatre, 122 
Oxford University, 13 

Pagan, The, 172 
Paris, 3, 49, 155 
Patriots, 166-167 
Pearse, Padraic, 117 
Phedre, 41 

Phillips, Stephen, 87 
Pie-dish, The, discussed, 145- 
146 
Produced, 143 
Published, 144 
Pinero, Sir Arthur, 14 
Piper, The, 169 
Place Hunters, The, 25 
Playboy of the Western World, 
The, 43, 63, 108, 109, 
136, 137, 138, 148, 
178, 195 
Discussed, 98, 101-106 
Produced, 59 
Published, 98-99 
Player Queen, The, 84 
Players Club, The, 27 
Plays for an Irish Theatre, 54, 

64, 67, 71, 79 
Plough-Lifters, The, 169 
Plunkett, Joseph, 195 
Poe, Edgar Allan, 155 
Poems (Yeats), 50 
Poems and Translations 

(Synge), 92 
Poets and Dreamers, 123, 125 
Poorhouse, The, rewritten as 
The Workhouse Ward, 
127 



Pot of Broth, A, 37 
Discussed, 72 

Produced and published, 
36, 71 
PurceU, Lewis, 171, 172, 173, 
181 
Works : Enthusiast, The, 
181 
Pagan, The, 172 
Reformers, The, 171 

Quintessence of Ibsenism, 19 

Racing Lug, The, 171 
Ray, R. J., 153, 168 

Works : Casting Out of 
Martin Whelan, The, 
168 
Gombeen Man, The, 164, 

168 
White Feather, The, 168 
Red Turf, discussed, 177-178 

PubUshed, 175 
Reformers, The, 171 
Reid, Forrest, 47 
Reinhardt's Theatre, Max 

(BerUn), 101 
Responsibilities, 52, 72 
Reveries over Childhood and 

Youth, 75 
Rhymers' Club, 49 
Riders to the Sea, The, 109 
Discussed, 94-96 
Produced, 39 
Rising of the Moon, The, 127 
Discussed, 128 
Produced, 137 
Robinson, Lennox, 153, 164, 
165-168 
Works : Clancy Name, The, 
166 
Cross Roads, The, 164-165 
Dreamers, The, 167-168 
Harvest, 165-166 
Patriots, 166-167 



222 



INDEX 



Rosmersholm, 28 
Russell, George 

A. E. 
Ryan, Fred, 152 



W. See 



Samhain, 22, 32, 33, 35, 36, 
40, 41, 45, 46, 64, 66, 
142, 171, 197, 198 

Samson Agonistes, 196 

Saxon Shilling, The, 110 

Scandinavian theatre, influ- 
ence of, 9 

Secret Rose, The, 49, 50, 78 

Seeker, The, 53 

Seven Short Plays (Lady 
Gregory), 72, 127 

Shadowy Waters, The, 43, 
195 
Discussed, 75-78 
Produced, 39, 75 
Published, 75 

Shaw, George Bernard, 2, 19, 
71, 164, 181, 184, 188, 
190, 192 
John Bull's Other Island, 4, 
188 

Sheridan, Richard Brinsley, 
198 

Shiubhlaigh, Miss Maire nic, 
43, 150, 151, 194 

Shuiler's Child, The, dis- 
cussed, 150-152 
PubUshed, 149-150 

Sinclair, Mr. (actor), 43 

Sinn Fein, 111 

Sir Edward Carson and the 
Ulster Movement, 192 

Sleep of the King, The, 36 

Slough, The, 169 

Smart Set, The, 155 

Spreading the News, 127 
Discussed, 128 
Produced, 39 

Spreading the News and Other 
Comedies, 127 



Stage Irishman of the Pseudo' 
Celtic Drama, The, 62, 
63 
Stephens, James, 111, 180 
Works : Charwoman^ s 
Daughter, The, 180 
Crock of Gold, The, 111, 

180 
Demi-Gods, The, 180 
St. Enda's College, Dublin, 

117 
Stokes, Whitley, 117 
St. Patrick's Purgatory, 4 
Stranger, The, 149, 150 
Strike at Arlingford, The, 24 

Produced, 14 
Strindberg, August, 7 
Studies (Colum), 117 
Swift, Dean, 197 
Sword of Welleran, The, 154 
Symons, Arthur, 74 

Fool of the World, The, 74 
Synge, J. M., 36, 37, 43, 48, 
54, 80, 81, 83, 88-109, 
110, 113, 117, 119, 
120, 121, 126, 133, 
138, 148, 149, 169, 
178, 186, 191, 194, 
197 
Brevity of career, 92 
Criticism of, 93, 98, 101, 

106, 185, 190 
Death of, 193 
Genius of, 89-91, 104, 107 
Masterpiece, 108 
Parody of, 173 
Quoted, 96, 104, 105 
Rank of, 109 
Travels, 90, 91 
Use of idiom, 104-105, 106 
Works : Aran Islands, The, 
90, 94 
Deirdre of the Sorrows, 
81, 92, 106, 107-109, 
130, 136 



INDEX 



223 



Synge, J. M., Works — (con- 
tinued) 
In the Shadow of the 

Glen, 37, 43, 80, 92, 

93-94, 98, 110 
In Wicklow, West Kerry 

and Connemara, 91 
Playboy of the Western 

World, The, 43, 59, 63, 

98-99, 101-106, 108, 

109, 136, 137, 138, 

148, 178, 195 
Poems and Translations^ 

92 
Riders to the Sea, The, 

39, 94-96, 109 
Tinker's Wedding, The, 

96-98 
Well of the Saints, The, 

39, 43, 96, 99-102, 113 
Writing and environment, 

88-92 

Tale of a Town, The, dis- 
cussed, 23-25 
Produced, 25, 27 
Published, 22 

Tartarin of Tarascon, 106 

Tents of the Arabs, The, dis- 
cussed, 160-161 
Produced and published, 
155 

Thidtre Frangais, 41 

ThMtre Libre, 1, 8, 33 

"Theatre of Ireland, The", 
149, 170 

Thomas Muskerry, 115-116, 
137 

Thompson in Tir-na-n'Og, 
172 

Three Plays (O'KeUy), 149 

Time, 169 

Time and the Gods, 154 

Tinker's Wedding, The, dis- 
cussed, 96-98 



Produced, 98 
Published, 96, 98 
Todhunter, John, 49 
Travelling Man, The, 127 
Troth, The, discussed, 177 

PubHshed, 175 
Turn of the Road, The, dis- 
cussed, 175-176 
Published, 175 
Produced, 172 
Twenty-Five, produced, 37, 
127 
Published, 127 
Twisting of the Rope, The 
(Casadh an t-Sugdin), 
produced, 6, 32 
Importance of, 32 



Uladh, 171 

Ulster Literary Theatre, 170- 
192, 195 
Origin and environment, 

170-175 
Playwrights of : Camp- 
beU, Joseph, 172, 173, 
174 
Ervine, St. John G., 

179-192 
Hobson, Bulmer, 171 
"MacNamara, Gerald", 

172 
Mayne, Rutherford, 172, 

173, 175-179 
Purcell, Lewis, 171, 172, 

173, 181 
Stephens, James, 180 
Ulster Theatre Society, 175, 

176, 178, 195 
Unicorn from the Stars, The, 
126 
Discussed, 68-70 
Produced and published, 
67 
United Irishman, The, 111 



224 



INDEX 



Wanderings of Oisin, 49 

Weekes, Charles, 48 

Well of the Sai7its, The, 43, 96 

Discussed, 99-102 

Produced, 39, 99 

Published, 99, 113 
Wells, H. G., 190 
When the Dawn is Come, 167 
When the Mist does be on the 

Bog, 172 
Where There is Nothing, dis- 
cussed, 68-71 

Produced and published, 
67 
White Cockade, The, 130, 135 

Discussed, 135-136 

Produced and published, 
135 
White Feather, The, 168 
Wicklow, 91, 97 
Wild Duck, The, 17, 148 
Wild Earth, 111 
Wilde, Oscar, 4, 69, 192, 198 
Wilson, A. P., 169 

Slough, The, 169 
Wind Among the Reeds, The, 
50, 51, 52, 78, 85, 86 
Workhouse Ward, The, 127, 
137 

Discussed, 128 

Yeats, W. B., 2, 5, 6, 7, 10, 
14, 18, 21, 27, 33, 34, 
35, 36, 41, 42, 43, 47- 
87, 88, 124, 125, 133, 
134, 150, 162, 191, 
193, 194, 195, 197 

Championship of Synge, 
89-90, 102 

Collaboration with Lady- 
Gregory, 64, 67, 70, 
71, 72, 122-123 

Contribution to Irish 
theatre, 85, 87 

Criticism of, 62-63, 80, 185 



Division of dramatic 
works, 53-54 

Education, 48 
Interest in mystic symbol- 
ism, 50-52, 78 
Literary activities, 49-50 
Maturity of lyric genius, 

50-52 
Miscellaneous plays, 55-74 
Miscellaneous works : Book 
of Irish Verse, A, 50 

Celtic Twilight, 49, 50 

Collected Works, 51, 54, 
67, 76 

Countess Cathleen and 
Various Legends and 
Lyrics, 49 

Death of Cuchullin, 78 

Fairy and Folk Tales of 
the Irish Peasantry, 59, 
72 

In the Seven Woods, 52 

Island of Statues, The, 53 

John Sherman, 69 

Mosada, 53 

Poems, 50 

Responsibilities, 52, 72 

Reveries over Childhood 
and Youth, 75 

Secret Rose, The, 49, 50, 
78 

Seeker, The, 53 

Wanderings of Oisin, 49 

Wind Among the Reeds, 
The, 50, 51, 52, 78, 85, 
86 
Plays : Cathleen ni Houli- 
han (with Lady Greg- 
ory), 33, 36, 37, 63-66, 
71, 171 

Countess Cathleen, The, 
6, 11, 32, 53, 54, 55- 
59, 62, 63, 67, 100 

Deirdre, 42, 43, 81-83, 
107, 108 



INDEX 



225 



Yeats, W. B., Plays — {con- 
tinued) 
Green Helmet, The, 52, 

83-84, 134 
Hour Glass, The, 37, 72, 

73-74 
King's Threshold, The, 

37, 43, 79-80 
Land of Heart's Desire, 

The, 14, 37, 49, 53, 

59-62 
On Bailees Strand, 43, 

78-79, 83 
Player Queen, The, 84 
Plays for an Irish 

Theatre, 54, 64, 67, 71, 

79 
Pot of Broth, A (with 

Lady Gregory), 36, 37, 

71,72 
Shadowy Waters, The, 39, 

43, 75-78, 195 



Unicorn from the Stars, 
The (with Lady Greg- 
ory), 67, 68-70, 126 
Where There is Nothing, 
67, 68-70 

Plays of GaeUe Legend and 
" History, 75-87 

Purpose of, 7-8 

Quoted, 11, 32, 33-34, 34- 
35, 38, 40, 45-46, 64, 
66, 67, 68, 70, 73, 75, 
80, 86, 89, 198 

Rank of, 86-87 

Recent verse, 86 

Recognition of Dunsany's 
genius, 154 

Revision of plays, 84 

Style of, 74 

Theory of, 45-46 

Writing and environment, 
47-54 
Yellow Book, The, 2 



